Harry and the Pirates
by Technomad
Summary: Harry Potter grew up in Roanapur, with his loving Aunt Petunia, his best friend/cousin Dudley, and the woman they all worked for, Balalaika!  Until the day a mysterious visitor arrived with news that would change both boys' lives forever...
1. The Little Friends of All the World

Harry and the Pirates, a Harry Potter/Black Lagoon crossover

by Technomad

Chapter 1: The Little Friends of All the World

Roanapur, Thailand, Summer, 1991

Two boys darted down the street, expertly weaving their way through the crowds. One of them, in the lead, stuck out from the people surrounding them, with his blond hair bleached nearly white by the tropic sun. His black-haired companion looked quite a bit more usual, until you got close enough to see his bright green eyes, an uncommon sight in Asia.

They ducked into a door above which hung the sign "_Bougainvillea Trading Company, LLC_." Inside, a slender woman was sitting at a reception desk.

"Hi, Mum!"

"Hi, Aunt Petunia! Does Herself have any errands for us?"

Petunia Dursley smiled at her two boys. "Let me buzz her and see." She turned on the intercom, and asked: "Ma'am, the boys are here. Have you any work for them?"

A warm contralto, slightly tinged with a Russian accent, answered her. "Yes, I do, Petunia. Send them on in, will you?" With the go-ahead given, Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley went on into the inner sanctum of Balalaika, the president of Bougainvillea Trading, and also the head of the Roanapur branch of the Russian Mafiya, "Hotel Moscow."

OOO

Not long after Harry Potter had come to live at Number Four, Privet Drive, Vernon Dursley had been killed in the street. It was a pure accident, with an out-of-control lorry running him down, but there had been a huge insurance payout by the lorry's owners, desperate to avoid a lawsuit and bad publicity. With the money, Petunia Dursley had decided to live the way _she_ wanted to. Away from England and sad memories. Dealing with Marge Dursley, who had moved on in for a nice long visit, spurred her decision.

She had had a good education and soon found a job overseas, in the Singapore branch of a British bank. With the money she made, she had no trouble engaging household help, and with that, the burden of a second active toddler was much less on her shoulders. She found herself warming to her engaging nephew, and the maids she hired, while very tolerant of childish behavior, did not encourage Dudley's more over-the-top actions. Before too long, she was the proud mother of a well-behaved little blond boy and the equally-proud aunt of an appealing black-haired boy with big green eyes. When she took her boys out for a walk, other women gathered around and cooed over them most gratifyingly.

After her five-year contract with the Singapore bank expired, she looked around for further work in the area. She had no desire to go back to cold, cramped, damp, expensive England, particularly not to dreary Surrey suburbia, after having experienced the life of an expat in Asia. When a job offer had come from a Thailand-based import-export company, she had interviewed and been accepted.

She had been very surprised to find that her new employers were Russians, and even more startled by her new boss. She hadn't expected a beautiful, scarred Russian woman, but she had apparently impressed "Balalaika," as everybody called the Russian, for she had been accepted for employment. She now ran the office at Bougainvillea Trading, handling a lot of the company's legitimate business. She knew about the illegal side of things, but kept her mouth shut. For the kind of pay she was earning, she'd have kept her mouth shut about a lot worse, even without knowing what Balalaika would do to her if she squealed.

Both boys had been all but adopted by Balalaika's men. The Russians were all suckers for children, and treated the two English boys like favorite nephews. The boys did have regular school to go to; Balalaika insisted on that, and with the money she was paid, Petunia could afford the best Roanapur had to offer; but their real education came from Hotel Moscow. They ran errands eagerly, and were completely familiar with and at home in Roanapur's streets. By this time, they were fluent in Russian and Thai, and could get along in Chinese. Both boys could also shoot, and knew more than enough martial arts to make sure they could get away from anybody trying to grab them.

OOO

Balalaika was sitting behind her desk, and smiled to see the two eager boys lining up in front of her. Both Harry and Dudley were in awe of her. The boys both thought she was the most beautiful person in the whole world, and knew everything. This flattered her, and rather to her own surprise, she had found she had a real flair for teaching. Watching the two boys growing up was a pleasure; she was unable to ever bear children of her own due to her injuries, which was one of the great secret sorrows of her life. Harry and Dudley served as substitutes.

"So, boys, what did Rowan have to say to you?"

"He gave us this envelope with his payment, and told us that he wants the same delivery next time." Dudley lay the envelope on Balalaika's desk, his face full of pride at having completed another errand for her successfully.

"Excellent. You've done well. Would you like to do another errand for me?" Their eager looks and rapid nods were all the answer she needed. "Could you go down the Yellowflag and tell Dutch that I'll be wanting to hire the _Black Lagoon_ later this week?" The boys nodded again, turned, and ran out of the office at top speed. Balalaika sighed. Once, _she_ had had all that excess energy…where had it gone? There were times when she felt old.

OOO

The interior of the Yellowflag was dark after the sun-drenched streets, and Harry and Dudley paused at the door, letting their eyes adjust. The air was thick with smoke, and thunderous music roared from the jukebox. The boys were reassured. This meant that the Yellowflag was normal; they had been witnesses to it being torn apart by brawls before, and although nobody local would deliberately target them…not only were they known to be under the protection of Hotel Moscow, but odd things had happened when they felt threatened in the past…it still was no fun.

After a few minutes, they saw the man they were looking for. Dutch, the captain and owner of the _Black Lagoon_, was sitting at a table with Benny, his electronics expert. The Lagoon's chief gunsel, Revy Two-Hands, was up at the bar, sitting and drinking with her friend "Sister" Eda of the Rip-Off Church. Other than the _Lagoon_ crew and Eda, the place was nearly deserted. A few of Chang's men were in a corner playing mah-jongg, and a drunk or two were sitting about, but that was it.

"Dutch?" Harry and Dudley went up to the PT boat's captain. "Balalaika sent us with a message."

"Well, let me hear it." Dutch gestured them up closer. Messages from Balalaika were important, and Dutch knew that they wouldn't want to tell him in a way that the whole bar could hear. Once they were close enough to speak to him with the music masking their words, he gestured for them to go ahead.

"Balalaika said she wants to hire the _Lagoon_ later this week. Will that be okay?" Harry looked around the bar. Revy saw him and gave him a wink, and Eda made kissy-kissy faces at him. Harry blushed, hating the way that those two could embarrass him so easily. He was almost a man…he'd just turned eleven, just like Dudley…and he _didn't_ like being treated like a dumb little kid!

Dudley didn't notice the byplay. In their partnership, Dudley provided the muscle, while Harry was usually the brains of the operation. Dutch nodded, rumbling: "Of course. You know that Miss Balalaika's always welcome to hire the _Lagoon_. I don't have any other charters already scheduled, so I'll just pencil her in for the rest of the week, at the usual rates."

OOO

When they got back to the Bougainvillea Trading offices, Harry and Dudley both noticed that Petunia looked perturbed. When she saw them, she said: "I'm to send you right in, directly you get back. Now, go on in, and be sure to be very polite." Mystified_…weren't they __always__ polite? Nobody but a __fool__ would cheek Balalaika!_…the boys went on in to her office.

Their employer lit up when she saw them, and turned to a woman that neither boy had ever seen before. "Good. You're back, and very promptly, too. While you were out, this woman appeared here, and told me that she wishes to speak with you both."

"_Appeared _here?" Harry was mystified. "Didn't Aunt Petunia quiz her before letting her on in?" Besides Petunia Dursley, whose innocuous-looking desk concealed several nasty surprises for intruders, the outer office was discreetly guarded by Balalaika's soldiers, and was designed to be able to hold off an attack.

"Yes. Appeared here. Out of thin air, by my desk. As you can imagine, this startled me, and I pulled my sidearm. However, Ms. McGonagall took countermeasures, and then explained the situation."

This startled both Harry and Dudley. While she usually left the rough stuff to her subordinates, Balalaika was no slouch in a fight in her own right, and was still one of the fastest guns in Asia. They looked carefully at the newcomer, curious as to who could do such things to their idolized employer.

The strange woman was old, but carried herself like a much younger woman. Her iron-grey hair was tied in a bun at the nape of her neck, and she was dressed in conservative, but expensive clothing; both boys could tell the difference in an instant. Seeing them looking at her, she spoke.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley. My name is Minerva McGonagall, Professor and Assistant Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am here to deliver your letters of acceptance to Hogwarts, and to escort you to where you may purchase your supplies for the coming school year."

Both Harry and Dudley were street-wise veterans of years in Roanapur, but this was, to say the least, unexpected. They stared and stared. Ms. McGonagall…_Professor_ McGonagall…gave them a triumphant smile. "Yes, magic is real. Would you like to see some?" Suddenly a strange stick was in her hand, and she waved it, muttering some words in a language neither boy knew.

Balalaika let out a startled squawk, which was unheard of; she was normally one of the most self-possessed people in all Roanapur. However, nobody had ever seen her reacting to having her desk suddenly become a pig. With another wave of Professor McGonagall's wand, it was a desk again.

Balalaika spoke up: "Boys, I will say that I never believed that magic is real, before today. Now that I've seen it demonstrated, I want you to take Professor McGonagall up on her offer. Such an opportunity is not to be wasted." She pressed a button on her desk, and said, into the intercom: "Petunia, will you come in here, please?"

When Petunia Dursley came in, she took one look at Professor McGonagall and started crying. "Oh, I had so hoped this day wouldn't come! I lost my sister, Harry's mother, to the magical world! She went off to that school and she was never the same sister to me again…and then she _died_!" She broke down completely, sobbing into her hands. "Those people killed her! They killed my sister!" Dudley and Harry instinctively moved to comfort Petunia, giving Professor McGonagall hard looks.

Harry was very curious. He had always, as far back as he could remember, lived with Aunt Petunia, and save for calling her "Aunt" instead of "Mother," there was no difference between the treatment he and Dudley got. He did know, though, that his mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister. Had his mother been some sort of magical person?

Balalaika cleared her throat, and Petunia got a grip on herself. "Mrs. Dursley, while I cannot command it, I would be very grateful if you allowed both boys to accept this offer. Education is not ever to be despised, and their schooling in Roanapur cannot go on for much longer." Both boys were at the top of their class, and beyond their school, there was little education on tap in Roanapur.

"I can assure you, Mrs. Dursley, that every effort will be made to ensure your son's, and Mr. Potter's, safety. You may not know it, but Mr. Potter is regarded as a hero. He is thought to have destroyed the man who killed his birth parents, although nobody is sure just how. That is how he came by his scar."

Reminded, Harry rubbed his forehead. Unlike Dudley, he had a scar on his forehead shaped like a lightning bolt. Aunt Petunia wouldn't tell him how he'd come by it, just saying that it had been there when he came to live with her.

Aunt Petunia wiped her eyes. "Yes…I know…Lily, rest her soul, said that not training people with magical talent was more dangerous than training them. The talent comes out unexpectedly, and weird things happen." Before either boy could stop her, she folded them both into a convulsive hug. "But I'm going to miss them so much!"

(_Author's note: This version of Petunia isn't under Vernon's thumb, and has had to spread her wings a lot more. Balalaika's still Balalaika, and she sees Harry and Dudley and Petunia as __her own__…and Hotel Moscow looks out for its own. As for hiring Petunia…that was partly to deflect the Thai national authorities' suspicion of Bougainvillea Trading. It was also easier to get a visa for her than for another Russian citizen._)


	2. East is East and West is West

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 02

East is East, and West is West

by Technomad

_September 1, 1991, Platform 9 ¾, King's Cross Station, London, England_

Harry Potter looked around himself. Dudley, beside him, was busy reassuring his new pet. His new cat, Pixie, had not been happy at being put in a kitty carrier, and was letting the world know about it. Dudley reached into the carrier and scratched her behind the ears, and her wails of discontent turned into a deep, rumbling purr of happiness. The cat was a pure affection sponge, and would shamelessly try to make friends with anybody who looked like they had a soft lap and a good hand for petting.

It had been a bewildering few weeks for the boys, since Professor McGonagall had been back to Thailand to collect them. Since she couldn't "apparate," whatever that meant, with both of them, that meant that they were going to be forced to use what she called "Muggle contraptions." The boys had flown many times before, but never so far, at least not that they could remember. When they had come out to Singapore with Petunia, they both had been not much more than babies. "You were both so cute, the stewardesses all wanted to adopt you," Petunia had said, smiling at the memory.

Before they left, they had been called in for a private talk with Balalaika. The only other person in the room was Professor McGonagall. Looking down at them, her trademark army greatcoat around her shoulders, Balalaika had said: "Boys, I never expected to find myself believing in magic, but the mark of a good soldier is to always deal with reality as it is, not as one would wish it to be. Battle plans always change in the presence of the enemy, for the enemy, dirty dog that he is, has plans of his own that do not involve your victory."

"Yes, ma'am," the boys chorussed. When Balalaika said something, what she said was always well worth listening to. She had also made that particular point to them before, and they had found that she was exactly right.

Balalaika gave them a stern look. "Professor McGonagall and Petunia have both said that it is permitted for me to see your school reports. I expect to see _stellar_ grades and _exemplary_ behavior from both of you, _panyamayu_?"

"Yes, _ma'am_!" Balalaika was always soft-spoken and polite herself, even when killing or ordering someone killed, and did not like or willingly tolerate boorish behavior in others. She was also a great believer in education. Every one of her employees was expected to improve his or her mind on a regular basis. "The mind," she was in the habit of saying, "is the most powerful weapon of all."

With that out of the way, Balalaika smiled at the boys. "That said, Petunia and I also want to see regular letters. And I can say that Roanapur won't be the same with you away. Come back to us safely, boys!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Balalaika dismissed them, and as she turned away, Harry thought that her eyes looked suspiciously bright. He figured it was probably a trick of the light in her office. Balalaika did not ever cry.

OOO

Petunia, on the other hand, _did_. She clung to both boys in the Don Mueang International Airport terminal, her slender body shaking with sobs. "Oh, I'll miss you both so very much! Please don't forget to write!"

"We'll write to you, Mum," Dudley said, holding his mother close, a slightly helpless expression on his face. Dudley was very protective of his mother, and seeing her in distress tore at him. "And we promise to stay out of trouble."

"Professor McGonagall says that the bad man who killed my real mum and dad is gone, Aunt Petunia," Harry said, also holding his aunt tightly. "There shouldn't be any problems. And we'll write to you and tell you about everything we do. I'm sorry that you felt so left-out when my real mum went away to school." Since Professor McGonagall's first visit, Aunt Petunia had been much more forthcoming about the past than she ever had been before, and while Harry often wondered what his real mum and dad had been like, he couldn't help a _frisson_ of anger at his mum for being mean to her sister.

"Oh, it's time to board the plane! Goodbye, boys!" With that, Petunia let them both go, and turned away, weeping, as Professor McGonagall herded them into the line to board their airplane.

OOO

Britain had been a whirl of incredible, alien activity. Professor McGonagall had taken them to a small pub called the "Leaky Cauldron," where she had shown them that, with tapping the right bricks in the right pattern with one's wand, one could make the brick wall in the back open up to reveal a wonderful, hidden world of witches and wizards.

Harry had been bewildered by his celebrity, but Professor McGonagall had warned him that he was famous for something he couldn't remember doing, and between her and Dudley, who was not above using his martial arts skill to detach people who got grabby when Harry couldn't do so himself, they got through the crowd in the pub and into Diagon Alley.

In some ways, it was very reminiscent of a Roanapur marketplace, but the goods on offer, and the people thronging the street, were wildly different. Harry and Dudley craned around, trying to take in everything at once. Their first stop was at a bank, run by strange small people whom Professor McGonagall called "goblins," to change the money orders they'd been given in Thailand for wizarding money. They were delighted with the wizarding coins; real gold, they knew, was valuable!

Then they had to be fitted out with robes. While they waited, the blond boy being fitted out saw them and struck up a conversation.

"You for Hogwarts, too?" Harry nodded, firmly suppressing the urge to tell him that no, he and his cousin were planning to rob a bank, and needed Hogwarts robes to confuse everybody. He was quite aware of being in a new, and unfamiliar environment, and, for a second, felt terribly homesick for safe, familiar Roanapur. "My name's Malfoy. _Draco_ Malfoy." The boy seemed to think that they should recognize the name, but it meant nothing to Harry.

"My name's Dursley. _Dudley_ Dursley," said Dudley, taking the lead in the conversation. "This is my cousin Harry. Where are you from?"

"Wiltshire. My family has a manor there. Where did you grow up? I've not seen either of you about."

"We grew up in Asia. Singapore, at first, and later on, Thailand." Harry had found that mentioning Roanapur often had unexpected effects on people, and while it amused him, he was still treading cautiously until he felt sure of his footing. He stepped gently on Dudley's foot to signal him to keep quiet. Dudley quietly nodded; in negotiations, he let Harry take the lead as a rule.

"What house are you hoping for?" Draco seemed to be more curious than anything else. "I'm going to be in Slytherin. All my family are."

"We don't know. Why do you want Slytherin so badly?" Harry and Dudley had heard about the House system from Professor McGonagall, but she hadn't been too forthcoming about the Houses' characteristics, saying that she didn't want to prejudice them before they got to Hogwarts.

"Why, Slytherin House is the best house at Hogwarts! A lot of the top movers-and-shakers in the Ministry came from there, as well as many wizards and witches who made history with their innovations!" Draco launched into a passionate sales pitch. "If you want to be the best wizard you can possibly be, Slytherin's the only real choice! Oh, Ravenclaws tend to think that they're the best, but they get so lost in their books that they forget the real world exists! And Gryffindor's full of maniacs with no sense whatsoever! Hufflepuff…YOWCH!" Draco jumped as the witch who was pinning up his new robes stuck a pin in him. "Be careful, there!"

"Sorry, dear!" From the look the witch gave Draco, Harry thought she wasn't one bit sorry. He figured that she'd been at Hogwarts herself, and was likely a Hufflepuff, or a Gryffindor. Privately, while he thought that Slytherin sounded intriguing, he thought he'd keep an open mind about Houses.

OOO

Once they were aboard the train, Harry and Dudley quickly found a compartment. Sitting down across from each other, they grinned.

"Going to be strange, not seeing Mum for so long," Dudley commented. Harry nodded.

"Not to mention Balalaika. Wonder what she'd think of this weather?" British weather had been a revelation to both boys, one they felt they could have done happily without. They were used to tropical warmth, and even though summer lingered, British and Thai summers were not at all comparable.

"She's Russian, remember? From what I remember, Russia's even colder than this. This would be like Old Home Week for her." Dudley looked out as the train started to move. "And away we go, off on our own. I've got to admit, it's kind of scary. At this Hogwarts place, we can't count on Balalaika or Hotel Moscow to be there for us if we need help."

"But we have each other." Just as Harry said that, the compartment door opened, and a red-haired boy about their age with a slightly hunted expression on his face peered in. "Oh. Mind if I join you? I need someplace safe to be for a while. My brothers are _bored_." From his manner, his brothers' boredom was Not A Good Thing.

"Sure, there's plenty of room, isn't there, Dudley?" Dudley nodded and smiled. In Roanapur, it was always well to assume that anybody you met was worth, at least, polite treatment. Some of the unlikeliest people had powerful allies or friends, and disrespect to them could earn one a free ticket to the harbor bottom. "I'm Harry Potter, and this is my cousin Dudley Dursley."

"Pleased to meet you both. I'm Ron Weasley. Are you _the_ Harry Potter?" Harry sighed. His new fame was already starting to lose its novelty. He pulled aside the hair over his forehead, displaying the famous scar left by the evil wizard. Ron's blue eyes went very wide, as he leaned a little closer to see it more clearly. "_Wicked_!"

Right about then, the door opened again, and Draco Malfoy stood there, with two burly boys standing side-by-side behind him. He looked around. "They say that Harry Potter's in this compartment. Are you him?" he asked Harry. Harry nodded wearily.

"Yes, I'm 'him,' Draco. Come on in, and gape your fill. By the way, mind introducing your two friends?" Harry gestured. "Ron Weasley, this is Draco Malfoy. _The_ Draco Malfoy. Draco, this is Ron Weasley."

Draco and his two companions sat down, rather crowding the little compartment. "Pleased to meet you. These are Vince Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, friends of mine. You didn't tell me you were Harry Potter back in Diagon Alley," he accused.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You never asked me. Besides, what is merely being Harry Potter, as opposed to being _the_ Draco Malfoy?" Dudley and Ron both grinned. After a tense few seconds, Draco grinned too. One of Draco's two companions snickered.

"Sorry about that. I do sometimes come across as a bit too full of myself. Mum says it's something I get from Dad, while Dad swears up and down that it's more like Mum. So, what's Thailand like?"

"You're from _Thailand_? But you both look so _normal_!" Ron looked from Harry to Dudley and back, his eyes wide, as though he expected them to transform into something any second.

"We grew up in Thailand, mostly, but we're as English as you are. Both of our parents were English, but after my parents, and Dudley's dad, died, his mum took us out East and we've been there ever since." Harry explained. "And Thais are as normal as anybody else. Not that that means much, around here!"

Draco looked at him blankly, then began to laugh. Ron, Vince, Greg and Dudley joined in the laughter, and soon all the boys were talking, the ice well and truly broken.

Some time later, the train was well on its way north, passing through an epic thunderstorm, when the door opened again. A bushy-haired girl poked her head in, with a rather timid-looking boy out in the corridor behind her.

"Excuse me, but have you seen a toad? Neville, here, lost his."

Everybody shook their heads. Just then, the train gave a jerk, and the girl stumbled into their compartment. "Uh, hi. I'm Hermione Granger. Who are all of you?"

Draco took the lead. "I'm Draco Malfoy…" he saw the gleam in Harry's eyes, and visibly refrained from adding "_the _Draco Malfoy," and went on: "This is Greg Goyle, this is Vince Crabbe, the redhead is Ron Weasley, the other blond is Dudley Dursley, and last but never least, this is Harry Potter."

"Harry Potter? The one in all the books?" Hermione's eyes went wide as saucers. "You're famous!"

"Yes, for something I don't remember doing, or know how I did, or even if I did it," Harry replied, rolling his eyes. "I didn't even know about the magical world until Professor McGonagall came to tell me about it. Dudley, here, and I are cousins, and we grew up together, in Singapore and Thailand."

"Really? What an experience that would be! I've never been out of England, even to Scotland! What houses are you hoping for? I want Gryffindor, because Professor Dumbledore was there…"

Draco broke in, the light of passion in his eyes. "Why in the world would you want Gryffindor, when Slytherin's right there? Slytherin's the house that produces the real world-shakers! Most of the Ministry of Magic bigshots were in Slytherin back in the day, and a lot of the wizards and witches who really made things happen, too! You want to make something of yourself? You want to be the best? _Slytherin's_ the place to be!"

Dudley leaned over to Harry, and commented in a low voice: "Heaven help us all if Draco ever discovers an evangelical religion." Harry laughed quietly, as the train barrelled on through the storm, heading northward.

END Chapter 02


	3. The School in Spite of Itself

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 03

The School in Spite of Itself

by Technomad

Harry gasped at his first sight of Hogwarts, high on its hilltop. He wasn't alone, though. Every new firstie, whether Pureblood with a long history or Muggleborn, was in awe. Beside him, Dudley murmured: "Looks like I always imagined Camelot!" The boys had devoured the tales of Arthur and his knights, imagining themselves as heroes of days gone by.

Beside them, Draco grinned proudly, as though he had personally designed and built it. "The current castle is largely the work of my ancestor, Lucien Malfoy. He was a student here in the 1500s, and donated the money for the expansion, as well as doing a lot of the design work. He also designed Malfoy Manor."

Behind them, Hagrid, who was easily the largest person Harry or Dudley had ever seen, chuckled. "Come on now, kids, down to the boats! Your first time, you ride a boat to Hogwarts." Prompted, the mob of children straggled down to the water's edge, where a bunch of boats awaited them. "Four to a boat only!" Hagrid called as they began to climb on in.

Harry, Dudley, Draco and Ron all claimed a boat, and looked around for things they could use to make it move. Harry and Dudley had been out with the _Black Lagoon_ enough to know what to do in boats, but Ron and Draco apparently hadn't ever been in one before. Just as the boat started to move under what seemed to be its own power, Harry grabbed Ron and sat him down forcefully; the redhead had been inches away from toppling into the water. "Sit _down,_ Ron! When you're in a boat, you can tip it over by standing up!" Ron blushed as red as his hair.

When the boats came to a dock under Hogwarts, the foursome got out, and Hermione Granger came up to join them. She'd been in a boat with Vince Crabbe and Greg Goyle, and a rather pug-faced girl named Pansy Parkinson. She and Pansy exchanged dark looks; apparently they hadn't hit it off well at all. As she joined her new friends, she hissed: "That little _bitch_! She spent the whole time telling me how I wasn't fit to shine her shoes, because I wasn't raised in the magical world!"

"That's not just a slap at you, that's a slap at _us_," Harry murmured, as Dudley nodded. Both boys gave Pansy a long, measuring look. _She would last about five minutes in Roanapur_, _with __that__ attitude_, Harry thought privately. In Roanapur, arrogant people who couldn't back up their attitudes tended to end up at the bottom of the harbor. He had also managed to head Hermione off telling everybody that she was Muggle-born. Mentally, he blessed Professor McGonagall. Knowing that neither boy was familiar with the magical world, she had given them a quick run-down on basic "dos" and "don'ts," emphasizing that Muggle-borns, and half-bloods, albeit to a lesser degree, were looked down upon by many purebloods despite having equal magical power.

_Goddamned fools_, thought Harry mordantly. In Roanapur, who you had been before you got there didn't much matter. People could be descended from nobility, or from gutter scum, and if they could claw themselves a place in Roanapur, they'd get respect. Nobody thought the worse of Chang for having been a policeman once, or Revy Two-Hands for having been raised in the gutters of New York City, a wretched hive of scum and villainy that made Roanapur look like Beverly Hills. Harry had heard his hometown compared to "a live-action experiment in Social Darwinism, run by a bored researcher with his finger on the fast-forward button."

Standing there with his cousin and new friends, Harry listened as Professor McGonagall, who was much sterner in public, gave them a quick rundown on Hogwarts and the House system. She wouldn't say just how they would be "Sorted," and Harry wondered how it would work. He was hoping for Slytherin, privately; Draco's sales-pitches had had more of an effect than he had realized.

When the first-years walked in, Harry heard people muttering his name, and felt another stab of irritation. If going to this school meant seven years of having to live up to a heroic deed he didn't even remember doing, he could just about do without it, he decided.

They brought out an ancient, battered wizard's hat, which began to sing a silly song. Apparently, the procedure to be Sorted involved sitting down, putting the hat on, and letting it look into your mind.

_Balalaika could use that power_, Harry thought. But then, she was already highly perceptive, and giving her the ability to see into others' minds would be gilding the lily.

OOO

"Dursley, Dudley!" Dudley walked up and sat down, putting the hat on. As it did with the other sortees, it came down over his eyes, and he fought the reflex that told him to take it off, quickly. Having one's eyes covered in the streets of Roanapur was not a good thing.

"Oh, what have we here?" A strange voice seemed to echo in his head. "You have had an interesting time of it! In some ways, you're more mature than our seventh-years, you know! Many of them, the purebloods in particular, are very sheltered. Interacting with you would definitely broaden their horizons, which would not be a bad thing at all! And you really want to improve yourself! For you…SLYTHERIN!"

As Dudley pulled off the hat, he noticed that his tie had gone green-and-white instead of black, and the table under the green banner with its white serpent were cheering their newest member. He went to sit down, making sure to keep some open spaces beside him. He hoped Harry would join him there.

OOO

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione put on the hat, and started when a strange voice sounded in her head. "Don't be frightened. I'm the Sorting Hat, and I'm going to look through your mind." An odd, not-entirely-unpleasant sensation as though her mind was being rummaged through, like a bookshelf, followed.

After a short while, the voice came again. "My dear, you have one of the finest minds I've ever had the privilege of seeing. Tell me, do you want to be the best witch you can possibly be?"

_Yes_. Hermione nodded vigorously. Ever since she had discovered that she was a witch, and the existence of the magical world, she had wanted to be not just _a_ witch, but the _best_ witch.

"Are you up for a real challenge?"

_Yes_! Hermione loved challenges. One reason she had been overjoyed to go to Hogwarts was that she'd been bored silly by her Muggle school; geared, as it was, to keep the slow learners going, it had presented her with very little she couldn't master standing on her head. Had she been less aware of just why rules existed, she'd have been one of the biggest hellions in her year, just from boredom and resentment at being forced to work at levels far below what she could do when she really put effort in.

"Very well then. You shall have challenges aplenty in…SLYTHERIN!"

OOO

"Potter, Harry!"

Harry sat down and put the hat on. In his mind, he heard: "Oh, you're another from that town in Thailand! And you've had an interesting time, too…even more than your cousin! Your parents murdered by a mad wizard, growing up overseas, and with such interesting people! You have great things ahead of you, you know. Do you want to be equal to them?"

_Yes._ Harry wanted Aunt Petunia, and Balalaika, and everybody else he knew to be proud of him. Balalaika in particular had always encouraged him to face any challenge he met "boldly, like a good soldier." He really didn't want to disappoint Balalaika.

"Do you want to be great?"

_Yes_!

"In that case, you may join your cousin and your new friends…and an interesting assortment they are, indeed…in SLYTHERIN!"

OOO

"Weasley, Ronald!"

In the darkness under the Hat, Ron heard: "Oh! Yet another Weasley? Is there no end to them?" A soft chuckle, then: "Just joking, Ronald. Looking into your mind, I can see some interesting things. You feel overshadowed by your brothers, don't you?"

_Yes_! Ron had always felt like he was overlooked by his family. Not unloved, but not much considered, and of no great weight in the scheme of things. To his parents, he seemed to matter much less than the twins, or Bill or Charlie, or even little Ginny. The people who paid the most attention to him were the twins, mostly because he was such a perfect target for every stupid practical joke they could think of. They thought they were hilarious, while Ron was getting good and tired of it. Some of their stunts, like giving him an Acid Pop that had burnt a hole through his tongue, or turning his teddy bear into a spider, had really hurt or frightened him, and nothing their parents could do seemed to stop it for long. The thought of spending years trapped in a tower with those two, with their parents a long ways away, did not appeal at all.

"Ah. I see. I can't blame you for being tired of them. They do tend to push things a good deal too far, don't they? And with them around, nobody pays any attention to you, do they?"

_No, they don't_! At home, it was all their mother could do to keep up with the twins' endless chaos, and she was about the only person who could keep them under any sort of control at all. She had tried putting Percy in charge, but the twins had made a dead-set at him and driven him nearly frantic. Their father wanted to help, but he was away from home with his job a great deal.

"You want to stand out from your family, as an individual? You want people to see you as _you_, and not just yet-another-Weasley?"

_Yes, I do! Put me __anywhere at all__ but Gryffindor!_ Weasleys were Gryffindors, that was one of the ineffable laws of nature. However, being a Gryffindor meant having to deal with the twins, and having Percy on his back as well. Percy meant well, but he had never related well to his brothers. 

"You have friends already there, so it's SLYTHERIN!"

Ron pulled off the Hat, patted his new green-and-white tie, and walked over to the Slytherin table. At the Gryffindor table, Fred and George gaped at him like he'd grown a second head, and Ron could see them putting away some things that he was sure would have had very unpleasant surprises for him had he sat there. Percy, on the other hand, seemed frozen with shock…and then he gave Ron an unmistakable wink.

OOO

After a rather nonsensical speech by the Headmaster, who looked like the illustrations of Merlin in their King Arthur book to Harry and Dudley, and a huge feast, the whole school sang a silly song and headed off to bed. Along with the other Slytherin firsties, Harry and Dudley found themselves taken in tow by a prefect who introduced himself as Marcus Flint.

As they were marched down toward the dungeons, Harry remarked in Thai: "He looks a lot like Boris, doesn't he?" Dudley looked at their guide, then snickered. Add a scar and a few years, and Flint could, easily, pass for Balalaika's right-hand man.

The password, it transpired, was "Serpents rule," and once inside, the common room was surprisingly cozy. Before the first-years were dismissed to go to their dormitories, Flint told them that the next day, their House Head, Professor Snape, would want to talk to them individually.

Snuggling under his blankets in his lovely four-poster bed, Harry reminded himself that he'd need to write to Aunt Petunia and Balalaika as soon as he could. He could hardly wait to begin learning magic.

END Chapter 03


	4. In the Serpents'Den

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 04

by Technomad

_Bougainvilla Trading Company offices, Roanapur, Thailand_

Petunia Dursley came into Balalaika's office, smiling so brightly that the overcast outside seemed to be banished. Balalaika looked up from some paperwork. "What's happened to make you so happy, Petunia? Did you find a nice man?" Petunia's reluctance to get romantically involved was a source of endless interest to Balalaika. Even though the Englishwoman was no soldier, much less a member of her old company, Balalaika had, all but unconsciously, started to treat her as she would a subordinate…and she believed that a healthy love life made a better soldier.

"No! I just got a letter from Harry and Dudley, in Scotland! I brought it straight on in here because I knew you'd want to see it too!" Balalaika's eyes went wide. She got up and peered over Petunia's shoulder as she cut the envelope open with a letter-opener. Together, the two women read:

_Dear Mum/Aunt Petunia,_

_ We got safely to Hogwarts. You would not believe the size of this castle! If we can, we're going to send you some photos. It's disguised, magically, to look like an uninteresting old ruin, with "Keep Out-Danger" signs everywhere, and charms to make non-magical people stay away. _

_ We were both Sorted into the same house (Hogwarts has four of them): Slytherin. Our House-mates are an interesting lot. In some cases, the "interesting" part is like the Chinese curse, if you know what we mean…_

OOO

_Slytherin Common Room, Hogwarts_

"You mean you're…_Muggle-born_?" Draco's voice cracked from sheer surprise as he stared at Dudley and Hermione. Harry privately thought that his expression would have been more appropriate had he found out that his cousin and their new friend had two heads.

"Yes, Draco, we're Muggle-born. You needn't act quite so much like we just admitted to enjoying cannibalism." Dudley's voice was patient, but Harry could see him adjusting his stance slightly. If the blond boy tried anything, he'd get a nasty surprise. Dudley often started off a fight with a vicious kick to the 'nads, followed up with a thoroughgoing stomping.

Of course, Draco did have backup. Crabbe and Goyle were standing not far behind him, and their expressions were ominous. However, their views did not seem to be unanimous. Their other Housemates were keeping their distance, and some of them were scowling at Draco. The blond boy's clear pride in his long magical pedigree was apparently not a universal sentiment in Slytherin.

And Draco wasn't the only one with backup on hand. Dudley and Harry had been in a good few street fights in Roanapur, and by now, they worked together like a well-oiled machine. Balalaika had hammered into their heads the maxim "fair fights are for fools," and they had proven her right again and again. Harry regretted losing Draco as a friend, but Dudley was like a twin brother to him. He also believed that magical power counted, or should count, far more than ancestry.

"He's my cousin, Draco, and my mum was Muggle-born. Are you talking smack_ about my mother?_" Harry's tone was icy cold and calm. A murmur ran through the room. One rule on the streets was that running one's mouth about someone's mother, or other female relatives, was an invitation to a serious arse-kicking. The mouth-runner could generally expect no sympathy, either. It was clearly understood that insulting a man's mother was well over the line. Apparently that same rule held at Hogwarts.

Crabbe and Goyle's eyes went wide, and then they both scowled at Draco. Draco visibly sensed that he'd crossed a line better not crossed. He moved back, making nice with both hands. "No. No! No insult was intended! It's just that we get so few Muggle-borns here! I hadn't expected…I hadn't thought…"

A smooth, silky, deep voice came from a dark corner, startling all the firsties. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy, you _hadn't_ thought. Not thinking is a habit you need to break yourself of, and quickly. Successful magic in any field requires thought." The shadow parted, revealing a tall, sallow-faced man with bottomless black eyes, a hooked nose, and long, rather oily-looking black hair, dressed in black robes. As he came forward, silence fell.

"Please allow me to introduce myself. I am Professor Severus Snape, Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. I am down here to welcome our new first-years, and to help acquaint them with the glorious traditions of the House they have joined." As Professor Snape spoke, dead silence fell.

OOO

_Bougainvilla Trading Company offices, Roanapur, Thailand_

Balalaika took up the reading: _Our House master is an interesting fellow. He's younger than most of the teachers here (the Headmaster looks to be older than God!) but he's apparently well thought of in his field. He teaches Potions. He has the same talent Balalaika has, of effortlessly commanding attention. They're as different as two people could ever be, but watching him do that, I was homesick for Roanapur and wished Balalaika was here._

Balalaika looked at Petunia, and gave a very uncharacteristic blush. Petunia smiled. "I told you that the boys both think the world of you, Ms. Balalaika. I honestly think that you could tell them to jump off a cliff, and they'd think it an honor to obey you."

"Which is why I shall never do such a thing," Balalaika answered. "A good commander…and I try to be the best commander I can be…treasures the lives of her men and does not expend them foolishly. Go on. What else do the boys say?"

_There was some trouble brewing after our Sorting, but Professor Snape sorted it right out. We both plan to stay on his right side, as far as possible. He does not strike us as an easy person to fool. _

OOO

"Apparently some of us are under the misapprehension that this House is intended only for the 'pure of blood," Snape purred, his black eyes fixed on Draco Malfoy, who stared back like a deer caught in a spotlight. "That is by no means the case. While our Founder _preferred_ to teach those who came from wizarding families, that was because at the time, Muggles often had many misconceptions about magic, and he was not as patient with having to unravel those as the other three Founders of Hogwarts.

"This House is for those who wish to make themselves the best wizards and witches they can possibly be. Many Ministers of Magic, top researchers, and other famous magical folk have been able to proudly claim that they were Slytherins. We strive for excellence in all things, whether in the classroom or on the Quidditch pitch."

Snape paused, and swept the room with a gimlet stare. "I should also mention that at the moment, this House is under something of a cloud. A certain Dark Wizard whose name is not spoken aloud was himself a Slytherin, and recruited heavily from his old Housemates. This does not mean that any of you are fated to be Dark wizards or witches. In fact, I should be quite…_displeased_…if any of you follow that path. I can assure you, while it seems to promise power, the promises are false and the power Dark magic grants is illusion."

Pointing at a rather startled Harry, Snape said: "Our new…celebrity…here can testify to that himself. Were it not for Dark magic's weaknesses, he would not be with us today. The Unnamed One tried, personally, to murder him in his cradle, and did succeed in killing his parents. How Mr. Potter survived is unknown, but since that day He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has not been seen." Harry's eyes went wide. McGonagall had told him something of this, but having it confirmed in front of his new Housemates was unexpected. Everybody stared at him. Harry wished that Snape had left him out of the discussion; he wasn't comfortable being the center of attention.

Drawing himself up, Snape concluded: "While disagreements are inevitable, I should note that intra-House feuding is not tolerated in Slytherin…unlike certain other Houses, which, unlike us, are divided, and, therefore, cannot stand against outside forces. Slytherin stands alone, and surmounts all challenges. That which does not kill us makes us stronger." The Potions Master narrowed his black eyes. "_Any_ Slytherin who makes a habit of harassing or tormenting other Slytherins will find him- or herself answering to me…and will not enjoy the experience. You have all been warned. Now scoot for your beds. Classes start early here, and dawdling is not tolerated."

_Bougainvilla Trading Company offices, Roanapur, Thailand_

_ We start classes tomorrow, _Petunia read._ We're really looking forward to learning all about magic! Some of the things our classmates tell us are hard for us to believe, but what we've already seen makes us think that we haven't heard the half of it! _

"Magic sounds as though it would be very useful," Balalaika commented. She gave Petunia a long, considering look. "You never told me, before Professor McGonagall came, that your sister was a witch who could do real magic."

"Would you have believed me?"

"No. You have a good point." Balalaika smiled. "However, as I pointed out earlier, a good soldier deals with reality as it is. This 'transfiguration' that Professor McGonagall showed us…I can think of all sorts of ways that it would be very useful for getting goods past customs officials. Or into places where they aren't ostensibly allowed."

"Not to mention, Apparation," Petunia pointed out. "Imagine being able to appear out of nowhere at will, the way the Professor did!" Balalaika's eyes glowed as she considered that possibility.

"Is there any more to the letter?"

"Not much. Here we go: _So we're both off to bed, and we'll write you again around the end of the week. We'll keep you both posted about developments here, and we're keeping our eyes wide open for things that would be useful to Bougainvilla Traders. We miss you, and everybody in Roanapur. Give our best wishes to the _Black Lagoon_ crew, Chang and his Triads, Bao, and everybody else._

_Love,_

_Dudley Dursley_

_Harry Potter."_

"It's a huge opportunity, and one I had never dreamed would come to my Dudley," Petunia whispered, her eyes shining with the tears she refused to shed. "I wanted to go to Hogwarts, but the Headmaster told me I just didn't have the gift, and my sister did. I envied her so!" She sniffled. "And I'll miss both my boys!" She choked back a sob.

"You got to be mother-in-all-but-name to Harry. I think your sister would have given anything for that opportunity," Balalaika pointed out. "Here. Have a drink. Let's toast their success in school."

END Chapter 04


	5. Double Trouble for a Snake

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 05

Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland

For Harry and Dudley, the first few weeks of school were a whirlwind of new experiences. Professor Snape "suggested" that the first-year Slytherins stick together and look out for one another; apparently, there had been incidents with members of other Houses, particularly Gryffindor, when Slytherins had been victimised. The expression on Snape's face when he told them this made Harry think that there was some history behind their House Head's words. Since the advice given seemed eminently sensible, Harry, Dudley and Hermione followed it religiously. And, outside of their own House, even those Slytherins with the least use for Muggle- borns defended their younger Housemates impartially, pureblood and Muggle-born alike.

Ron Weasley, unlike the other firsties, ignored Snape's warnings. One evening he came staggering back into the Slytherin common room, shaking and shuddering. His hair had been turned a bright green, his face was dead white, and his nose had been painted red. Harry ran up to him, with Dudley and Hermione right behind.

"_Ron!_ What in the world _happened_ to you?" shrieked Hermione. At her shout, Slytherins began appearing, coming from their dorms to see what was the matter. Harry and Dudley helped Ron into a chair, as some of the older Slytherins ran for their House supplies of remedies.

"I was headed up to the Quidditch pitch when my twin brothers came across me. They told me that they were glad I was here, and said they had a treat for me," Ron mumbled. Two of the seventh-year prefects, Tommy Bulstrode and Susan Flint, were working on him as he spoke. "Next thing I remember, I was climbing down the stairs back here."

"You _took _something they _gave you_?" Harry raised an eyebrow and shared a significant glance with Dudley. The boys from Roanapur had heard a good deal about the twin Weasleys, and nothing they had heard was reassuring. The other Slytherins had many tales to tell of the twins' propensity for pranks, and some of the Ravenclaws, with whom the Slytherins generally had good relations, had confirmed that the twins should be treated with great caution at all times.

"They're my brothers!" Ron was nearly in tears. "I had thought they wouldn't mind me being in a different House! I thought I'd finally be able to get away from them!"

"I take it that being their younger brother wasn't always _fun, fun, fun_?" Hermione gave Ron a very penetrating look.

Ron looked haunted. "Always, pranks, pranks, _pranks_! Mum was so busy, she couldn't keep them under control, and neither could anybody else! Dad, Bill and Charlie were away most of the time, and when Mum tried putting Percy in charge, the twins ganged up on him and drove him nearly off his head!"

"Well, you aren't alone now!" Harry looked around, to find that the other Slytherins were all nodding at him. "We're Slytherin House and an attack on one of us is an attack on all of us! Anybody else want to get in on this with me?" A chorus of agreement answered him.

OOO

A few nights later, Harry, Dudley and Hermione were skulking through the corridors, after curfew. Since Harry had taken the lead in the matter, the older Slytherins had assigned him to dealing with the twins, and had said that he could recruit whom he pleased. Dudley, of course, was the first person he turned to. "You're my backup, Cousin. We're blood relatives. We've got Roanapur in our blood and bones. I'd rather have you than any number of Pureblood pet poodles." Dudley had blushed and nodded; he didn't always know how to take praise.

Hermione was along because of her book-knowledge. She had been a bit unsure about the whole thing, but she was furious about the unprovoked attack on Ron. "Those two are nothing but a couple of bullies!" she had fumed. "I had to put up with enough from my schoolmates back in Muggle school; I was hoping this place would be different! Well, this time I'm not putting up with it any more!"

They had heard some odd rumours about strange things in the school, and were wondering if some of those things would be of use. They had already investigated the third-floor corridor that had been placed off-limits by Dumbledore, and had been stymied by the lock on the door. Harry privately resolved to return, with his friends and his Muggle lockpicks.

Harry opened a door, and peered in. "Nothing much in here, I don't think," he commented.

Just then, a familiar, hated voice echoed down the corridor. "What's this, Mrs. Norris? Students out of bed? Students prowling the halls? Well, we'll see about that, won't we?" Roanapur reflexes took over, and Harry and Dudley ducked quickly into the room, pulling Hermione with them and softly shutting the door. Once they were in, they bolted the door, hoping that Filch wouldn't think they could have opened it. Filch hated all students, and delighted in getting them into trouble if he could. Harry and Dudley privately thought he was much like some of Chief Watsup's men in Roanapur. The chief of the Roanapur municipal police was quite susceptible to reason, as long as it was spendable, but some of his men were never happier than when they had dragged some hapless victim into the station for a "talking-to." Harry and Dudley had been immune to that, thanks to Balalaika's influence, for which they were profoundly grateful.

Filch could be heard outside, getting closer and closer, and finally pausing just outside the door. He tried it, and when he found that it was locked, he went on his way, muttering "Nasty little brats, always getting up to mischief, think they can outsmart me, do they…" Harry, Dudley and Hermione went very quiet until they were sure he was gone.

Once the menace was past, they looked around. There were some odds-and-ends of furniture scattered about, and a big full-length mirror stood in one corner. Idly, Hermione went and looked in the mirror…and let out a startled squeak. Harry and Dudley hurried to her side.

"I saw myself, only older! And I was Head Girl, and getting top honours for my studies, and being offered a wonderful job!" Harry and Dudley looked at each other and nodded. Hermione Granger's ambition stood out, even in Slytherin, traditionally the home of the ambitious. She studied like it was about to go out of style, attacked each homework assignment with great fervor, and quizzed the older Slytherins constantly about the best ways to advance oneself in the magical world. At first, this had startled their elders, but by that time, the older boys treated Hermione rather like an indulged little sister, patiently answering her barrages of questions. The girls still didn't quite know what to make of her, but her age-mates were happy to let her help them with their own studies.

"So it shows the future, does it?" Harry looked at the mirror. Across the top of the frame, he read: "_Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_." He shook his head. "That's not in any language I know; it's not Russian, it's not Thai, it's not Chinese, and it's sure not English. What do you make of it, Dudley?" While Harry was the brains of their long partnership, Dudley had grown up on the same streets as he had, and often had insights worth listening to.

"Never saw it before, Harry. Maybe we should copy it down and see what the older Snakes can make of it, eh?" Harry nodded, stepping close to the mirror as he pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill. He jotted down the inscription, then looked in the mirror, and was astounded.

"My God! This thing shows me as head of the Roanapur underworld! I've got Hotel Moscow reporting to me, and the Triads, Italians and Colombians as well! Maybe it does show the future?"

As Dudley crowded up to take a turn, Harry was pulled aside by Hermione. "One of these days, Harry Potter, you've got to tell me about this 'Roanapur' place. Is it _really_ run by criminals?"

Dudley let out a loud gasp, then turned bright red. "What is it, Dudley?"

"Er…it's me. And Balalaika." Dudley wriggled with embarassment. "I'm older, and Balalaika's telling me that she couldn't get along without me…and then she's kissing me…"

"Say no more, Dudley," Harry held up a hand. "I think I get the drift. Besides, we've a _lady_ present. Such things are _not_ for her innocent ears." Hermione gave Harry a furious glare, and Harry grinned at her. He had known that would get her goat, and had done it for just that reason.

Just then, a voice came from the corner. "Ah, I see that you, along with many others, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised." All three Slytherins jumped, and whirled around, wands out, only to put the wands away quickly when they saw that it was Professor Dumbledore.

"What…how…?"

"I do not need a cloak to become invisible, Mr. Dursley. Have you not figured out, yet, what the mirror truly shows you?" The Headmaster pointed to the inscription at the top. "Read it backwards."

"'I show not your face, but your heart's desire,'" Hermione read slowly.

"And each of you saw what your hearts now desire the most. Miss Granger, you saw yourself completely successful, headed for the top of our little society…a most commendable ambition, by the way, and one that is well within your grasp. Mr. Potter, you desire success too, but in a form that's more familiar to you. It may well be in your future. And Mr. Dursley wishes to have the love of this 'Balalaika' person. I have received a letter from her, by the way; she wishes to tell me that I have a free hand in educating the pair of you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley. She sounds a fascinating person; I shall have to write back and tell her that your teachers are pleased with your progress so far."

The old wizard opened the door with a flick of his wand. "Now, back to your dormitories. If you wish to retaliate on your Housemate's behalf against his brothers, I would suggest trying something they aren't expecting. Observation of their habits would help." The three went out into the hall, with Dumbledore behind them. "And I trust you can see why the Mirror of Erised is dangerous. People have wasted away in front of it, not willing to stop staring at their dreams. If you should see it in future, you will know its peril."

As they headed back to the Slytherin common room, Harry braced himself. So far, he had managed to fob Hermione's curiosity about his hometown off with vague generalities, but he'd let the cat right out of the bag. He thought about what would happen if he introduced her to Balalaika, and grinned to himself. _They'd probably be the best of friends in short order_!

END Chapter 05


	6. The Propagation of Knowledge

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 06

By Technomad

Chapter Six: The Propagation of Knowledge.

While the information about the Mirror of Erised was very interesting, it did not have anything to do with Harry's current conundrum, which was: "How to get even with the Weasley twins?" Even with the help of Draco, Dudley, Hermione and Ron, Harry couldn't come up with anything. The twins were older than he was and in a different House, which made getting at them difficult.

Their own House Head was no help at all, despite his disapproval of the twins' abuse of their brother's trust. After Hermione suggested that they ask him, his response was: "A true Slytherin, Mr. Weasley, does not need to ask for help. A true Slytherin uses his own resources and cunning in a situation like this."

Ron's report of his interview with Professor Snape was discouraging, but by no means unexpected. "Very well. I think he's trying to see what we're made of. This is a test, in other words," said Hermione. Her big black eyes narrowed as she knit her thick dark eyebrows; for a second, she reminded Harry poignantly of Balalaika, when the Russian woman was dealing with a particularly knotty problem.

Dudley nudged Harry. In Russian, he muttered: "Can you imagine introducing her to Balalaika?"

Harry grinned; the thought had already occurred to him. In the same languge, he murmured back: "They'd probably team up, and be best friends!"

"What _is_ that _language_?" Hermione asked irritably. "I do think it's kind of rude, using a language nobody else knows around here."

"Oh, sorry, Hermione. We both speak Russian because the woman my mum worked for for years was Russian, and we grew up around her men who were all Russians. We sort of picked the language up, as well as Thai, and some Chinese." Dudley explained, as Hermione's eyes went wide.

"Really?" At the boys' nod, her eyes went huge. "You are _so lucky_! I only speak English and some French! You've _got to_ teach me those languages sometime!"

"We'll be happy to," Harry assured her, "but right now, poor Ron looks like he's about ready to burst. Have you got any ideas, Ron?"

"Well, I'm not sure about this," Ron began, uncomfortable as all their eyes turned to him, "but it occurs to me that Percy's been their victim, many a time. Maybe we could ask him for some help? He _is_ a Gryffindor…"

"That's a good idea, Ron!" Draco patted Ron on the back. "Like Snape says, a good Slytherin uses his own resources and cunning! And Percy might well be willing to help us prank the twins!" Ron's tales of life _chez_ Weasley had not gone unnoticed, and privately, Hermione, Harry and Dudley all felt sorry for the redheaded prefect.

OOO

When Ron approached him, Percy proved surprisingly tractable. "Of course, Ron, I don't care if you're a Slytherin, you're still my littlest brother. And I'll be happy to meet your friends." When introduced, Percy shook all their hands warmly, making Hermione blush as he bent over her hand as though to kiss it. "Come on into here," Percy invited, opening an unused classroom.

Once they were comfortably settled, Percy surprised everybody by opening his bookbag, which bulged nearly as much as Hermione's, and passing around some Chocolate Frogs. "Now, as I understand it, you youngsters want to pay my twin brothers back for pranking my youngest brother?"

At their eager nods, he smiled. Harry thought it was a very Slytherin smile, and wondered if Percy might have been happier as a Snake than a Lion. He didn't seem to like being the twins' housemate any more than Ron would have. "Well, there are a lot of possibilities, but the trouble is, the twins are good. Very good. The usual approaches wouldn't be likely to work. They've 'been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt,' to quote one of my Muggle-born housemates, and they'd spot something like what most people would pull right straight off."

All the Slytherins nodded. Percy was laying things out a step at a time, like a good teacher. Percy turned to the blackboard and wrote "_Usual approaches-right straight out_!" Then he turned, and asked: "And what's their greatest weakness?"

All the Slytherins thought, and Ron visibly thought hardest of all, his forehead wrinkling. "They're overconfident. They think nobody's as smart as they are."

Percy nodded approvingly. "A point to Slytherin, Ron." Writing "_Overconfidence_" on the board, he went on: "Now, I know the others don't know them very well, but can any of you think of other things you've noticed about them?"

Harry raised his hand. "They haven't had much to do with Muggle stuff, have they? It occurs to me that the Muggle approach might catch them in a blind spot."

Percy's eyes went very wide. "Now, that's _ingenious_! Five points to Slytherin!" Writing "_Ignorance of Muggle methods_" on the board, he continued leading the "class."

By the time they and Percy parted with mutual expressions of goodwill, Harry felt comfortable enough around the usually-reserved fifth-year prefect to ask him: "Why didn't you ever do anything back to them?"

Percy looked very pensive. "When I was little, our Mum made me promise to never, ever allow any of my little siblings to come to harm. You-Know-Who was still active, and she was terrified for our family. My uncles, Gideon and Fabian, had been killed around that time, and she never got over it. She still cries every year at the anniversary of their deaths." He grinned rather ruefully. "The promise became a conditioned reflex, and they shortly learned exactly how to drive me crazy. I can't retaliate."

"But _we_ can!" Ron grinned at his older brother, and Percy grinned back, looking very like the twins themselves at that moment.

OOO

Back in their quarters, Hermione asked for the loan of an owl. "I've some mail to send out," she explained. When an owl appeared, she produced a letter with Muggle stamps on it, tied it to the owl's leg, and gave it a little kiss on the top of the head before turning it loose. She stared haughtily back at the people who were staring at her. "What? So I like animals. Got a problem with that?"

"Not all Slytherins do, Hermione," Marcus Flint explained. "When we've got some privacy…" he glared around at the others, who were watching…"I'll explain. Suffice it to say that not all our House mates are trustable around animals."

"There's _reasons _why we don't have as many pets as some Houses, Hermione," Millicent Bulstrode said softly. "Some of us…don't have the best backgrounds, and can take things out on anything that can't fight back."

"Anybody I catch doing that will wish they'd never been born," Hermione said frostily. Dudley nodded. Harry agreed with him. Anybody who tried hurting Pixie the cat would find themselves facing Roanapur-style justice! Pansy Parkinson was watching him, and for some reason, she went pale and lowered her eyes.

OOO

A few days later, at breakfast, an owl came for Hermione, dropping off a package. She smiled at the return address. "My parents weren't sure why I wanted this stuff, but they came through. I've got to say that they're pretty good parents to have."

"What is it?" Harry, Ron, Draco and Dudley all crowded around close. Hermione held up her hand.

"Later, boys. This is for our project, and the walls have ears here."

When they were safely down in Slytherin territory, with most of the castle between them and the likely location of the Weasley twins, Hermione opened her package. "Right. One bottle-capper, one hundred bottle caps, and a bottle of phenophthalein powder. Now, all I need is a six-pack of a popular brand of butterbeer, and Operation Double Trouble is a 'go.'"

OOO

Ron was walking up past the Gryffindor common room, with a six-pack of butterbeer under his arm, when he found himself surrounded by his twin older brothers.

"Well, if it isn't Ickle Ronnikins," purred one of them. Unless they wanted to allow it, nobody could really tell one of them from the other. "Enjoying life in the snake nest?"

"You probably broke our poor mother's heart, you know," the other twin chimed in. "She so wanted all her children in red-and-gold, and finding that she'd been nurturing a serpent at her bosom, so to speak, will just about crush her."

"We were going to introduce you to the old custom of stuffing someone's head down a toilet…"

"But we see that you've got just the thing to deflect our anger."

"Give us that butterbeer and we'll…"

"Leave you alone this time."

As his brothers yanked the six-pack of butterbeer away from him, Ron yelled: "Leave me alone or I'll tell Percy on you! And _then_ you'll be in trouble!"

"Well, that compounds your offense!"

"Siding with Perfect Prefect Prat Percy…"

"Against _us_?" This was followed by a punch to the stomach. Ron doubled up with a groan of pain, and when he straightened, his brothers were gone, with the butterbeer. He smiled. It wasn't a very nice smile.

"It worked perfectly," he said softly to himself, before heading off to see Madame Pomfrey.

OOO

A few nights later, the whole school was en fete for Halloween. With the rest of the Slytherins, Harry, Dudley, Ron, Draco and Hermione were seated at the Slytherin table, tucking into a feast that made the normally-excellent Hogwarts food seem like what one throws to pigs. They were all seated where they could keep a sharp eye on the Gryffindor table.

"I notice that two redheads are missing," Hermione remarked, casually; anybody who didn't know her well…and nobody outside her immediate circle knew her well; she had learned that lesson very quickly in Slytherin…would think it was just idle chitchat. "Hey, Marcus! Got any idea where the Weasley twins are?"

Marcus grinned at the younger girl. Rather surprisingly, he had developed a very soft spot for her, particularly after he had caught her helping other firsties with their work when it was difficult. He had a Slytherin's passion for excellence, and had spoken scornfully of "pureblood poodles with no more brains than a bag of rocks," looking significantly at Crabbe and Goyle. "I think they're sick. Oy, Wood!" He called over to the Gryffindor table. "Mind telling us where your two-headed menace are?"

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, looked down the table. "Hmmm. I'm not sure, Flinty. Think that you'll be able to take the next game against us if they're not about?"

"We can take you with or without those clowns! Slytherin's had the Quidditch Cup and House Cup for years, and we're not in a mood to give it up now!"

"Dream on, Flinty. Hey, Angelina…where are the twins, anyway? On detention _again_?"

The black girl shook her head. "No. The way I heard it, they got a bad case of the runs, and they're down in the dungeons…their last class before it hit was Potions…holding down side-by-side stalls in the boys' loo down there."

The young Slytherins looked at each other. "Operation Double Trouble is a complete success!" Harry crowed quietly.

"Wait till Balalaika hears! She'll be so proud of us! Our first independent op, with nobody helping, and we pulled it off perfectly!" Dudley and Harry exchanged discreet high-fives.

"You've got to tell us about this 'Balalaika' person," Draco commented, as Ron and Hermione both nodded vigorously. "She must be something really special, for you to speak of her so."

Just as Harry and Dudley turned to their classmates, the doors to the Great Hall banged open. Professor Quirrell, their stuttering, ineffectual Defence Against the Dark Arts instructor, came running in. Coming to a pause before the staff table, he gasped: "Troll…in the dungeons. Thought…you'd like to know." Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he fainted.

END Chapter 06


	7. The Roanapur Method

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 07

The Roanapur Method

Bougainvillea Trading Company offices, Roanapur, Thailand

Petunia Dursley slit open the letter, as Balalaika watched with interest. "Oh! The boys are telling us all about Halloween at their school! I remember what Lily used to say…" She began reading the letter, and her eyes went wide, as Balalaika came around to read over her shoulder.

_Dear Mum (and Balalaika), Well, our first Hogwarts Halloween is over, and we had a spot of bother. Nothing that a couple of Roanapur-raised boys couldn't handle, but it was a bit sticky there for a while…_

Balalaika raised one elegant eyebrow. "'A bit sticky'…isn't that British talk for 'very dangerous and we only survived it by pure luck?'" At Petunia's blush, she smiled. "Don't feel bad…you're far from the first person of your nationality I've met!" Both women read on, their eyes glued to the page…

Hogwarts Castle, Hogsmeade, Scotland, UK

Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dudley tore through the corridors. When Professor Dumbledore had ordered the Great Hall evacuated, in the wake of Quirrel's revelation, they had been among the first to slip out.

"Ron! Where are your brothers?" Harry gasped. At that moment, he rather regretted the high living and feeding he'd been doing since arriving in England; right then, he thought some of his edge had gone off.

"They're down this corridor! In the boys' lav!" Harry's eyes narrowed as he considered the possibilities. He and Dudley had both been trained by Balalaika, and one thing she always emphasized was to know the ground one was on; they had prowled and explored the corridors of the dungeons very thoroughly indeed, and could have drawn maps of them without much trouble.

"Right! Ron, you and Hermione, go get your idiot brothers, and bring them back toward the main stairs to the ground level. Dudley, you follow me…we need to get Balalaika's gifts out!" Ron and Hermione's eyes widened at Harry's casual assumption of command, but they knew that time was of the essence; they had all read Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and knew that trolls were exceptionally dangerous, particularly when uncontrolled. They nodded and ran off down toward the boys' lav.

OOO

Fred and George Weasley both wished fervently that they were dead. They had been seized by almost uncontrollable diarrhea during their Potions class, and it had been all they could do to keep themselves contained until Snape released them, at which point they had dived straight into the nearest boys' loo and planned to stay there until whatever ailed them had passed through their systems.

They hadn't expected to see Ron; for some reason their younger brother tended to avoid them. They thought it was shame that he had been Sorted into Slytherin. Therefore, it was a shock when the door to the lav slammed open and they heard Ron: "Fred! George! For Merlin's sake get out of here! There's a troll in the dungeons!"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Oh, _sure,_ Ron, we believe you." He began to sing: "There's a troll in the dungeons, dear 'Liza, dear 'Liza…" Then his blood ran ice-cold as a horrible moan echoed through the halls. He had had enough Defence classes to know what that noise meant! With a few quick motions of his wand, he cleaned himself up and put his clothes to rights, and catapulted out of the stall, with George right beside him. Ron was crouching by the lav door, looking down the corridor with a face as pale as milk.

As they exited the lav, Hermione hissed: "This way! Hurry! Harry and Dudley have something planned!" Fred and George needed no second invitation; they scampered after their brother and his friend as though Death were at their heels. A triumphant howl from behind them lent them even greater speed.

OOO

Harry and Dudley were opening the box that Balalaika had had sent along with them to England, and eventually, to Hogwarts. "Right, Dudley, we've got a M-79 and about ten grenades for it, as well as this RPK. Want to take the RPK?" Dudley nodded, hefting the Russian machine gun with the familiarity given him by long hours of training alongside Balalaika's men. When they had first seen the men of Hotel Moscow at training, Harry and Dudley had begged Petunia and Balalaika to let them do it, too, and Sergeant Boris had made himself personally responsible for their safety. With that assurance, Petunia and Balalaika had both given permission, and the Vysotniki had been delighted to train them in everything they could learn.

Running out of the Slytherin common-room, Harry and Dudley heard frantic footsteps coming toward them, very quickly. Whistling shrilly, Harry yelled: "Hermione! Ron! Over here! We're just outside the Slytherin common-room!" Their friends, along with a pale, ill-looking Fred and George, came pelting around the corner, and ran toward them as hard as they could.

Harry felt slightly sick when he saw why they were running so hard. Behind them, and gaining rather fast, was a huge, unbelievably ugly, humanoid creature with a club in one hand. As nearly as Harry could estimate, the thing stood a good solid ten feet tall if it was an inch, and its expression seemed to be a mixture of utter stupidity and malice. It saw them and howled one word: "Foood!" as it began to trot up the corridor.

Panting, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George managed to stop behind Harry and Dudley, who had just finished extending the bipod on the RPK. Hermione's eyes went huge. "Harry James Potter! Where in the world did you get an AK-47?" she shrieked.

"It's a longish story, and it's an RPK light machine gun, but the basic firearm is the same. Once we're out of this I'll explain everything, but right now, get ready to fight!" Dudley was snapping a magazine into the RPK, and as the troll came closer, he flipped the selector to full-auto, and sent a burst down the corridor.

OOO

Severus Snape, along with the other teachers, was quartering the maze of the dungeons, looking for Quirrel's troll. Snape was planning to skin Quirrel alive for this stunt…the man was supposed to be some sort of expert on trolls, was he not, so what was he doing fainting at the sight of one? Then Snape and his partner, Minerva McGonagall, froze as a loud _rat-tat-tat-tat-tat-tat_ echoed down the hallways.

"What the bloody hell was that, Severus?" For Minerva McGonagall to swear meant that something really bad, or really unusual, had happened. "That's nae any troll I e'er kent!" Another similar noise…Snape privately compared it to the sort of sound the Devil's own woodpecker would make, pecking for grubs…galvanized both teachers, as they ran toward the unholy racket. Whatever it was, they had to find out, and fast!

OOO

The troll was hit, but not out of the fight yet, by any means. It dragged itself along, howling its rage and waving its club, as Harry and Dudley sweated frantically to get the RPK back into action.

"I can't do it! The bloody thing's jammed, but good! It's this cheap-jack ammunition we got with it!" Dudley screamed, glancing fearfully down the corridor at their advancing enemy.

"Oh, just bloody great!" Swearing in Russian, which he privately thought was a wonderful language for that purpose, Harry stepped forward, privately promising himself a long, long talk with whoever had palmed off bad ammunition on them. As he opened the M-79 to load a round, he thought: _Wait till I tell __Balalaika__! Those people are going to have their balls dangling from their ears_!

Yelling "Cover your ears, everybody!" Harry aimed the M-79 at the troll's midsection and squeezed off a shot. The high-explosive round roared as it hit, but Harry, well-trained, was already grabbing for a white-phosphorus round.

As the smoke cleared, Harry could see that there was no need for more shooting. The troll had taken the full force of the HE, and was now splattered all over the place, dripping from the ceilings and walls. Ron and Hermione both looked very sick, and even Dudley was looking a little green around the gills.

Right then, they were found by Professors Snape and McGonagall.

OOO

Snape and McGonagall had heard the shouted warning, and had covered their ears just in the very nick of time. The roar that echoed through the dungeons was louder than anything Snape could ever remember hearing, and he and McGonagall stared at each other in wonder and horror.

Mr. Weasley-from-Slytherin was trying to comfort his terrified older brothers, with Miss Granger alternating between offering to assist and staring wide-eyed down the corridor, where Mr. Dursley and Mr. Potter were grimly pointing some menacing-looking Muggle contraptions at a horrible, splattered mess that Snape, with a twinge in his stomach, recognized as the remains of a rather large, unfriendly-looking troll.

McGonagall recovered from her shock first. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Dursley! What in Merlin's name did you _do_?" She stared at what was left of the troll, and turned an interesting shade of green, rather amusing Snape. "Mither o'…Mither o'Merlin, was yon beastie the troll we were warned tae seek?" As always when she was upset or startled, her accent was getting away from her.

Mr. Potter paid them no mind, but Mr. Dursley turned and nodded. "Yes, _ma'am_. Please report to Professor Dumbledore that the known threat has been effectively neutralized, although we do not know at this time whether further threats may exist in this area-of-operations." The choice of words was very unlike Mr. Dursley, and Snape wondered where he'd learned such turns of phrase.

"But what did you do to it?" Neither teacher had ever seen such damage inflicted on a troll; they were stupid, but extraordinarily tough creatures, and would be able to shrug off injuries that would paralyze or kill a human.

"Dealt with it the Roanapur way." At their teachers' puzzled expressions, Harry expanded: "No problem exists that can't be solved with a generous application of high explosives and firepower." He indicated the RPK and M79. "Balalaika sent these along with us; she said they'd likely come in useful, particularly if we were foolish enough to attend a 'Rangers vs. Celtic' game in Glasgow. Please, ma'am, sir, what's 'Rangers vs. Celtic?'"

"Never you mind. I'll explain later. In the meantime, I'll want Professor Burbage…that's our Muggle Studies professor…to examine these devices." Harry and Dudley nodded, as though they had expected no less.

"Easily done, ma'am, but you'd best let us de-fang them, first. And if she wants to look at them, it'd be best if one or both of us were there, to keep things safe. Fooling with these things without knowing what one is doing can be fatally dangerous."

"But why are you here?" Snape wanted to know. "What brought you here, instead of the safety of our common-room?"

"Well, sir," Mr. Weasley-from-Slytherin took up the tale, "we were trying to find my brothers. They were down in the lavs."

"And how did you know they were down in the lavs?" Snape raised a sardonic eyebrow; after years of dealing with Slytherins, he could instantly sense when there was more to a story than he had been told. "Did you, perchance, have something to do with them being there? I did notice that they seemed very uncomfortable in their last Potions class…"

"Please, sir," Miss Granger piped up, "they'd been dosed with a Muggle laxative."

Both of Snape's eyebrows went straight up. While he didn't like the terrible twins, he knew that they were more than old enough hands to not be easily caught with a dose of a potion they hadn't intended to take." "How did this happen, please?"

"I had a six-pack of butterbeer, and they took it away from me, saying that they'd been planning to stuff my head down a loo for being Sorted Slytherin, but that the butterbeer would do. I said I'd tell Percy on them, and they punched me in the gut good and hard for 'siding with Perfect Prefect Prat Percy' against them." At this, both teachers' eyes narrowed, and they gave the twins identical gimlet stares.

"Indeed." Snape stroked his chin, feeling rather like a detective. "And how does this lead to them being dosed with laxatives?" Beside him, McGonagall was looking more and more like an angry basilisk, and the Weasley twins were involuntarily shrinking away from her.

"We'd kind of dosed the butterbeer; we knew the twins would almost certainly take it away from Ron if they saw him with the six-pack. It was a trap, sir. If they'd treated their brother right in the first place, they wouldn't have tasted the stuff, and they would never have been dosed. As it was, they acted just like we expected them to." Snape smiled a very carnivorous smile. It looked like this year's crop of Slytherins were going to be the stuff of legends, even without Mr. Potter and the whole "Boy-who-Lived" thing!

At this point, McGonagall blew up. "_Mr. Weasley and Mr. Weasley_! How _dare you_ abuse and rob your younger brother? I am _ashamed of you_, and your whole _House_ should be ashamed of you! Get up to our common-room, right now, young men, and after I've come up with some really good detentions, I'll write your mother about this behavior!" With beseeching looks, but broken, Fred and George took the opportunity to leave the scene.

When they were gone, McGonagall turned back to the Slytherins. "As for you young people, you're fine examples to the whole school…for all that I can't endorse your actual methods. Mr. Weasley, twenty-five points for going to your brothers' aid, even when you had very good reason to be angry with them."

Ron's eyes went wide. "But, ma'am, I had no _choice_! They're my _brothers_! They're prats, but I _couldn't_ just leave them to be killed! _We're brothers_!"

McGonagall stared at him as though he'd grown a second head. In a husky voice, she said: "Severus, do you think there's any chance of a re-Sorting on this one?"

"Not a chance, Minerva," Snape replied smugly. "He's mine, and so are the rest of them. Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, please go to our common-room; Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley, please stay here until I can summon Professor Burbage to take charge of these contraptions of yours." As McGonagall turned to go, Snape added: "Oh…and twenty points to each of you for courage, clear thinking, and plotting well worthy of your House. Salazar himself would be proud of you."

"Thank you, sir," said Ron. Then he plucked up his courage. "Please, sir, could you give my brother Percy some points for this even though he's a Gryffindor?" This visibly startled Snape. Ron explained: "He doesn't care that I'm a Slytherin; he helped us figure this plan out, because I'm his little brother. And he was really nice to the rest of us."

"Very well. Ten points to Mr. Percy Weasley, Gryffindor though he be," Snape conceded. "And you may be sure that I shall inform Professor McGonagall that one of her Weasleys is a fine example of all that a Hogwarts student should be, and deserves praise." Snape grinned to himself. _And when Minerva hears me saying that, she'll probably faint dead away!_ He settle down to wait for Professor Burbage, very content with his world.

_Bougainvillea Trading Company offices, Roanapur, Thailand._

Balalaika and Petunia had just about come to the end of the letter. _Well, that's what happened this Halloween. Thanks to the training we got, we were able to deal with the situation without harm (save to the troll.) Please send us some more "stuff" ASAP. _

_Love, Harry and Dudley._

_PS. Ever since that night, our House-mate, Hermione Granger, has been absolutely plaguing us with questions about Roanapur, and she'd like to come out and visit over the hols. Would that be all right, or should we tell her it can't be done? She says her parents are going to Thailand this summer for some sort of dentists' convention; she'll be over in Bangkok and at loose ends. Please, can she come?_

Petunia's eyes were misty. "I'm terrified for them, but so far, they seem to be well able to deal with whatever gets thrown at them!"

Balalaika smiled. "I'm proud of them." Then she narrowed her eyes. "And I plan to have a _long_ talk with Sister Yolanda at the Rip-Off Church. Try to fob substandard ammunition off on _me_, will she?" She pointed at the telephone. "Petunia, please call Sister Yolanda and let her know that I expect to see her in my office, at her earliest convenience!"

Petunia nodded and picked up the phone. As she dialed, she felt an evil glee coming over her. _How dare that phony "nun" put her boys in danger with her shoddy goods? Well, Balalaika would see to that!_ She pictured the expression on Sister Yolanda's face when she found out just how much trouble she was in, and wondered if Balalaika would let her sit in on the conversation.

END Chapter 07


	8. The Elephant's Child

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 08

The Elephant's Child

Harry, Dudley, Ron and Hermione found themselves the toast of the Slytherin common-room when they got back into their House. Everybody was agog to see the four firsties who had not only gone up against a mountain troll voluntarily, but defeated it decisively. Even Draco Malfoy was impressed, although he tried to hide it.

"Man alive, Quirrell's going to be furious with you!" Marcus Flint chortled, handing them bottles of butterbeer from the secret store the Slytherins kept. "_He's_ supposed to be the big expert on trolls, and here you took care of this one while he was out cold on the Great Hall floor!"

Harry took a butterbeer, raising it in a toast to his friends. As he sipped the cinnamon-tasting liquid, his mind was whirling with the question: _Was__ Quirrell supposed to be some sort of expert on trolls? Why would he faint at seeing one? And how in the world did such a creature get into Hogwarts in the first place? _

Once he and his friends were safely in the firsties' dormitory, Harry put the question to them. "Listen, you lot. Quirrell's credited with knowing all about trolls. Can any of you explain why he'd faint at the news that one was in the castle? And _how_ did it get here?"

Dudley, Ron and Hermione all looked very thoughtful. "You know, that's all very suspicious, isn't it?" Dudley mused. "I mean, that would be like Sprout panicking at the appearance of a strange plant, or Burbage being puzzled by a Muggle gadget!"

"Quirrell was up in the hospital wing," Draco Malfoy volunteered, having come up in time to hear the conversation. "He didn't stay long at all, and wouldn't even let Pomfrey undo that ridiculous turban he wears. Pomfrey wasn't too pleased, but couldn't keep him against his will."

All four friends turned and gave Draco a long, long, considering look. A look like one would give a donkey that had spoken. "Oh? And how would _you_ know about that?" Ron asked. "Did the scary old troll _frighten you_ so you had to go ask Pomfrey for some Dreamless Sleep?" Draco had made some cracks about Ron's family, and while Ron didn't mind hearing the twins slandered, Harry, Dudley and Hermione had had to restrain him from going for Draco's throat after Draco had mentioned Ron's "fat mother." Harry privately thought that Draco, while he could be a likeable sort when he wanted to be, was going to sooner or later receive an epic comeuppance from someone or other.

Draco flushed. "No. I wasn't up there for myself." He met their gazes squarely. "As it happened, Crabbe had a really bad reaction to some of the food at the Feast and had to be rushed up to the hospital wing. Pomfrey was able to get him into stable condition, but it was a close-run thing. She's furious with his parents for not having the condition treated or notifying Hogwarts before he came here. I was up there visiting him."

"Oh." The quartet looked at each other. "We're sorry to hear that. How long till he's back on his feet?" When Malfoy himself wasn't around, Crabbe and Goyle weren't really bad sorts. The quartet had sometimes helped them with homework, and Hermione had won their favor by saving their bacon on a tricky Transfiguration assignment.

"It looks like a few days." Draco pulled up a chair and sat down. "For what it's worth, he _is_ allowed visitors." The hint was very clear.

"We'll be up to see him tomorrow, quick-sharp," Hermione said. "Now…since you've dealt yourself in on the conversation, can _you_ tell us why Quirrell would react so badly to a troll, when he's allegedly a big expert on them?" Hermione and Draco disliked each other, but Hermione was quite willing to tap the pureblood boy's knowledge of the British wizarding world, knowledge that Harry and Dudley, Roanapur-raised, lacked, and that Ron Weasley hadn't paid attention to.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You know, that's a really good question. I wonder if whatever happened to him on that sabbatical he took had something to do with it?"

"He took a sabbatical?" Dudley pulled out a notebook and a Muggle-style biro, not heeding the curious glances Draco and Ron gave him. "When was this?"

"Last year, I hear. He said he wanted to get some first-hand experience of Dark Creatures. From what the older Slytherins tell me, he didn't stutter like that before he left."

"Hmmm…" Harry, Ron, Dudley and Hermione all looked at each other. "I wonder just where he went, and just what he got up to?"

"I wish Balalaika were here," Dudley commented. "There's a lot of hinky things about this school. Like that third-floor corridor…the one we're supposed to keep out of, 'on pain of an agonizing death?' Now, what _sane person_ would put something like that in a school full of children, particularly magical children?"

"I'm surprised that my idiot twin brothers haven't gone up there and got themselves killed yet," Ron said. He gave his three friends a look. "And before you say anything…they _are my brothers_. Even if I'm glad to not have to share a House with them, I'd never want them to come to harm. My mum's still grieving over her brothers who were killed by the Dark Lord when he was active; I can't imagine how she'd feel about losing any of her children."

"She'd be heartbroken," Dudley said confidently. "I know mums. When my appendix went, a couple of years ago, my mum did her nut. Balalaika has good insurance for her employees, and it was taken out quick-sharp, but Mum all but haunted the hospital till I was out."

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked. When Hermione gave him a rather graphic description of an appendectomy, finishing by lifting her shirt aside enough for him to see the scar on her abdomen from when she'd had hers out, Ron and Draco both turned very pale and bolted for the lavs with their hands over their mouths.

The three Muggle-raised Slytherins looked at each other. Then Harry and Dudley grinned.

"Sheltered, aren't they?" drawled Harry.

"I'd love to see _them_ in Roanapur!" Dudley snickered.

"_Don't_ make fun of them," Hermione scolded. "I've been reading about magical healing, and they can do things that Muggle doctors would think were miraculous. How would _you_ feel about having to deal with old-fashioned medicine…all those amputations?" At the silence that greeted this, Hermione nodded. "Good. When they come back, don't tease them about this."

"I want to go to bed," said Harry. "Dudley, let's write Balalaika and tell her everything that's going on in this place."

"I have _got_ to meet this woman," Hermione complained. "I feel sorry for your future girlfriends. Unless they're real tolerant, they'll always feel like Balalaika's a rival."

"You should be grateful for her," Harry commented as he and Dudley headed for the door to their bedroom. "Thanks to her, we have no problem with smart women…like you."

Hermione sat there for some time after the boys were gone, a very strange look on her face. The other girls were curious, but one look at her convinced them to let her be.

OOO

The next day, an owl came to Hogwarts, depositing a letter in front of Dudley and Harry as they sat at breakfast.

"Look! Thai stamps! It's from Mum!" Dudley eagerly opened it. "And Balalaika wrote, too!"

"After classes, let's read it together!" Harry and Dudley got up, eager to begin another day learning all the fascinating things that Hogwarts taught.

When they were done with their classes for the day, Dudley and Harry headed up to one of their favorite places, the Hogwarts battlements. They liked it up there for the unobstructed view; they had learned early and well that being able to see potential threats from a long way off could mean the difference between survival and death. The fresh, clean Highlands air was also a welcome change from the smoky, exhaust-filled fumes that permeated Roanapur.

Hermione had come up to join them; Ron had managed to get himself a detention with McGonagall, along with Draco, for squabbling in class, and was currently working off his time. Dudley pulled out the letter, and Harry crowded closer to look at it with him, with Hermione sitting back politely to learn what news they had.

"Listen to this: 'The _Black Lagoon_ crew's done something unexpected. They were taking a disc I had sent them to get, when Revy had one of her patented brainstorms, and grabbed the guy who was carrying it off the ship, too. He's still with them; his bosses wrote him off and so he joined the _Lagoon_ crew. I have to say, he might be an asset to them. He figured out a way for the _Lagoon_ to torpedo an attack helicopter in flight."

"This, I have a hard time believing," Hermione commented. Harry and Dudley nodded. Harry couldn't figure out how a PT boat could do any such thing, unless the helicopter pilot was insanely overconfident and very, very stupid.

"It says here that he's a Japanese, one of those white-collar guys that helps run one of their companies…a '_salaryman_,' to use their term. Any bets on him lasting two weeks?" Dudley grinned, and Harry shook his head. No way was _he_ going to lose any money, even Thai _baht_, betting on any such impossibility! "He is _soooo_ doomed! Revy'll kill him on a whim any day now!"

"Who or _what_ is a _Revy_?"

"Oh, sorry, Hermione. Revy Two-Hands is a woman we know back home. She works for the Black Lagoon courier company. She's…a little _volatile_, shall we say?" Dudley grinned, at a loss for words to describe their acquaintance. He had seen Revy in action more than once, as had Harry, and both boys knew better than to antagonize her. Even Balalaika's protection wasn't a hundred-per-cent effective, and revenge would do them no good if they were dead.

"Yeah, you could say she's a 'little volatile.' And the bottom of the ocean's a 'little wet.' She's got a hair-trigger temper, and she's also one of the top gunslingers in that town, which is no small brag. In Roanapur, even the Catholic nuns go armed. But Revy's in a class by herself. She fires pistols from both hands at once, and hits her targets every single time."

"She sounds a little too good to be true." Hermione commented. "I've written my parents asking if I can visit Roanapur when we go to Thailand next summer over the hols. Do you think there'd be any problem with that?"

Harry and Dudley looked at each other. "We've written to ask Mum," Dudley answered. "If she says 'yes,' then we'd love to show you around…but I can't emphasise enough, Roanapur can be very dangerous! If you come, we expect you to stay with us, or with people we've told you are trustworthy, every single minute. Wandering off by yourself could get you killed, and that's no joke!"

END Chapter 08


	9. The Honour of Their House

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 09

The Honour of their House

by Technomad

Soon, all of Slytherin House was eagerly anticipating their first Quidditch game of the season. The Troll Incident was not forgotten, particularly when Fred and George Weasley received a Howler from their mother about their treatment of their little brother, but everybody was eagerly discussing their chances against their traditional rival, Gryffindor.

"We've been beating the tar out of Gryffindor for years," Draco Malfoy gloated, "and we'll keep on doing it! With Flint and Pucey as Chasers, Higgs as Seeker and Bletchley as Seeker, we can't lose!"

Harry gave Ron, Hermione and Dudley significant looks. To his eye, the Slytherins were badly overconfident. Ron mouthed "Later," meaning that they'd discuss it somewhere where the blond pureblood couldn't listen in. They often found it easier to discuss things without Draco Malfoy giving them the benefit of his views…or, as he saw them, his wisdom from on high.

All of them had been checked out on brooms by Madame Hooch, who had pronounced them able to fly. Harry and Ron were both natural fliers, while Dudley and Hermione were less sure of themselves. Nonetheless, all four of them kept up practicing.

"After all," Dudley had commented to Harry, "this might be a lifesaver sometime, in Roanapur or somewhere else." Harry nodded. He could easily see situations arising where an unexpected ability to fly out of trouble could save them. They could also prove very useful to Balalaika, or another employer, by being able to fly without showing up on electronic detection systems.

The day of the game dawned, cool and clear, a lovely Scottish late-autumn day. Bundled in their warm gear, the boys from Roanapur were ensconced in the top of the Slytherin supporters' section of the benches, with Hermione and Ron beside them.

"Honestly, this game is silly," Hermione complained. "I mean, most of it more-or-less makes sense…if you call flying around with a couple of cannon balls flying there with you trying to stave your ribcage in sensible. But the whole 'Seeker' thing makes the rest of the game futile, as often as not. Why worry about scoring, if you've got a good Keeper and Seeker? Just keep the other side from scoring, have your Seeker catch the Golden Snitch, and Bob's your uncle, you've won the game!"

"But, Hermione…the Snitch makes the game interesting! Even when you're 'way behind, if your Seeker catches the Snitch, you can still win!" Ron looked at Hermione like she'd suggested legalizing cannibalism. Draco, a few seats away, looked equally horrified.

"Yes…your Seeker can make up for having a weak team. So wouldn't it make sense to concentrate on the Seeker and keeping the other side from scoring, without trying to score yourself?"

The boys all looked at each other. "Got to admit, she's got a point," Dudley drawled. Ron and Draco both looked very calculating.

"After this is over, would you mind talking to Flint?" Draco finally asked. "He might just find what you're saying interesting."

"Only if you boys come along with me," Hermione answered. Harry and Dudley nodded. They had figured out just how important Quidditch was to Flint, and both of them felt that their friend would be much safer with them there. While Flint had always been friendly, telling him that his approach to the game he loved was miles off-base might not be safe.

The game itself was a lot of fun to watch, Harry decided. Lee Jordan, the commentator, was pretty obviously biassed against Slytherin, but Ron explained that he was a Gryffindor himself, and a year-mate of Ron's twin brothers, who were both playing.

"I've got to say, Ron, your brothers work together like two halves of a single person," Draco commented, watching the twins effortlessly manipulate the Bludgers to keep the Slytherin Chasers, Flint and Pucey, off-balance and allow the Gryffindor Chasers to monopolize the Quaffle. When the Quaffle went through the Slytherin goal, the crowd roared.

"We're not popular with our schoolmates, it seems," Harry remarked. "I wonder just why?"

"Oh, that could be because our house was apparently the main recruiting ground for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…you know, the guy who, you'll remember, killed a lot of their relatives and kept the wizard world in a state of terror till he met Harry here," Ron said, with an airy tone that belied the pain in his eyes. "Like it or not, we're under a cloud."

"And _some_ tosswits love to toss fuel on the fire by going around snubbing people for their ancestry," Dudley growled, giving Draco Malfoy a very dark look. "_Some _tosswits tend to forget that Muggle birth _isn't_ the same thing as 'weak wizard,' _don't they_?" Draco's comments about "Mudbloods" and pureblood superiority had not gone unnoticed, it seemed.

Draco paled, but made no comment in his own defense. One evening, they had had a "friendly" bout between Dudley and Harry, on one side, and his two bodyguards Crabbe and Goyle. Draco had more-or-less cornered them into it, but it had gone very badly for Crabbe and Goyle, who had informed Draco that one more such stunt and they were through with him. They had clearly never encountered Muggle martial arts.

Despite the Gryffindors' fine playing, the game went to Slytherin, mainly because Higgs, the Slytherin Chaser, outflew his Gryffindor counterpart with ease and snagged the Snitch. Harry noticed how downcast McGonagall looked. Beside him, Dudley was deep in discussion with Ron and Hermione.

When they went back in, Dudley explained: "We're going to try to figure out just what factors affect a Quidditch game, so that we can start up a bookmaking service. Weather, previous wins, personnel, what brooms are being flown, and all other variables. A bookmaking service will be a good way to make some extra money."

"Good thinking," Harry commented. Then they came around a corner, and Harry gestured for his friends to be quiet.

They had come across Professor Snape, talking quietly and earnestly with Professor Quirrell. They heard Snape snarling: "Don't try it, Quirrell. You don't want to be my enemy!"

"I d-d-don't know what you're t-t-talking about, Severus…" Quirrell stammered. Snape picked him up by the front of his robes and slammed him against the wall.

"Don't you _dare lie to me_! You're after it, and I'm warning you, keep off! You don't know what you're dealing with!" With that, Snape contemptuously dropped Quirrell, who all but collapsed in a heap, and stalked back to the castle, radiating outraged dignity from every inch of him. Harry was reminded of an angry cat.

Quirrell was putting himself back to rights, muttering "Oh, I don't know about that, Severus. When my master returns, with my help, you'll regret every bit of what you did to me today…you filthy traitor!" Harry thought that he heard a strange, high-pitched voice answer, but since Quirrell was turning toward them, he signalled for his friends to leave quickly, and joined them.

Harry and his friends made themselves scarce before Quirrell spotted them. They hurried back to the castle, to find a place where they could talk in reasonable privacy.

"Well, this is interesting," Ron started. "I wonder just what Quirrell is up to, and why Snape's trying to stop him?"

"Maybe Quirrell's in search of something that would improve his teaching? Buddha knows, he could stand improvement on that front!" Dudley snorted. All four of the friends laughed. In their time at Hogwarts, they had all formed impressions of their teachers. McGonagall was strict and stern, but knew her subject well, and was endlessly patient with those who were honestly struggling. While they liked him in general, they thought Snape wasn't well-suited to teach beginners; he couldn't relate to people who honestly had no interest or talent for potions, and his snappish sarcasm bothered some of their more timid classmates. Longbottom, in particular, was a perennial target. Flitwick and Sprout both clearly knew their subjects, and could energize a class.

Quirrell, on the other hand, was down with Binns in the category reserved for the worst teachers in the school. Binns' droning made Harry sleepy, and only Hermione's meticulous note-taking kept him afloat in that class. And Quirrell was so timorous, and stuttered so much, that it was an ordeal to listen to him. More than once, Harry had wanted to shake the man, to get him to do something…to write things down on the blackboard, if he was too frightened to say them.

The other Slytherins, and everybody else, from what Harry had gathered, also considered Quirrell an encumbrance. Harry had heard the older Slytherins complaining bitterly that with the calibre of teachers that Hogwarts had had for Defence Against the Dark Arts, their chances of being Aurors, or following any career that might bring them up against wielders of Dark Magic, were vanishingly small.

"I wonder," mused Hermione, "could it be something to do with that corridor on the third floor? The one we're supposed to stay away from?"

The four friends looked at each other. Investigating that corridor had suddenly soared to the top of their list of Things To Do.


	10. Draco's Just Deserts

Harry and the Pirates Chapter 10

by Technomad

Draco's Just Deserts

For the next several weeks, as Christmas came closer and closer, the four friends dug into research. Hermione took the lead; her love for burrowing into books was unparalleled outside of Ravenclaw, and even some of the Ravenclaws looked rather lazy next to her. She organized the information search, and the boys were happy to accept her direction. For Harry and Dudley, it was a bittersweet reminder of their years in Roanapur, doing Balalaika's bidding.

Ron pumped his brothers for information. After _l'affaire Troll_, they treated him with much more respect, and neither Fred nor George said one word against his House affiliation. Percy had been shocked at the violent, final way in which the foursome had dealt with their attacker, but had to admit that they had made very sure that the troll could not endanger anybody else. "Even so, though," he remarked, "I feel rather bad about it. Trolls are kinda-sorta humanoid, and I don't feel right about casually killing one." Then his eyes flashed fire, and for a second, he looked like Ron when Ron was hot on the scent of something good. "At the same time, _anybody_ that threatens a Weasley…any Weasley…_dies_! Good on all of you!" He patted the boys' backs, and affectionately ruffled Hermione's hair. "I can't wait for Ginny to meet all of you!" Hermione looked up at him, and blushed, very uncharacteristically.

They found out a bunch of very interesting things. Firstly, that there had been a break-in at Gringott's, the goblin-run bank that served the wizarding community. "Gringott's is supposed to be utterly safe," said their informant, "but someone or other managed to get into a vault without authorization. Luckily, whatever was in the vault had been taken out earlier."

"Could that be what's hidden here?" Harry wondered, when this information had been shared out. "Hogwarts is supposed to be one of the safest places of all, and with Professor Dumbledore and the rest of the staff on guard, it might seem to be the perfect place to keep something secure. I don't know about those goblins. They might be up to something themselves. What better way, after all, to lure people into placing their valuables in your hands than to have them believing that you've got someplace that's impregnable?"

"I don't know, Harry," Dudley replied. "These folks we're among have long memories. If the goblins tried anything, their reputations would be ruined for centuries. Kind of like at home. One reason that people deal with Balalaika, or the _Lagoon_ crew, is because they've built up reputations for always, always treating their customers fairly. If you buy something from Balalaika, you're guaranteed to get what you pay for, on time, and in full. And if you hire Dutch and the _Black Lagoon_, they'll do the job they were hired to do, no matter what. If they started double-crossing their clientele, they'd not only not get any more work, but they'd have a lot of people very unhappy with them."

"Right! And they'd end up on the harbor bottom. I always liked what Balalaika said about that." He went on, in a slight Russian accent: "I do not think you would _like_ the harbor bottom. You meet the _nastiest_ people there." Harry nodded at his cousin. While he was usually the brains of their partnership, he was always willing to listen to what Dudley said.

Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. They shook their heads very slightly. "Roanapur sounds like an interesting place…in the sense of the Chinese curse, if you know what I mean," Ron remarked.

"Oh, it is!" Harry grinned at his friend. "But for those who can handle it, it's like no other place in the world!"

Meanwhile, as the four friends tried to suss out what was behind the odd goings-on at Hogwarts, and keep on top of their schoolwork…the four of them were at the top of their year in Slytherin for grades, and Harry and Dudley felt confident that Balalaika would be proud of them…another problem grew, affecting all of Slytherin House.

Draco Malfoy had steadily become more and more arrogant, until his housemates were good and sick and tired of him. The blond boy strutted around as though he were a prince, and had taken to trying to order his housemates about "as though we were house-elves," as a furious Millicent Bulstrode put it to Hermione, in an all-girls gabfest in the Slytherin girls' dorms one night.

"He told me to fetch him a quill! Who does he think he is?" Pansy Parkinson paused in brushing out her hair to glare into the mirror. "Does he think he's royalty, or a Roman Emperor, or something like that?"

Hermione smiled. It wasn't a very comforting smile, and her dorm mates' eyes widened. When she smiled like that, she usually had something underhanded in mind. "I have the most wonderful idea, girls!" When they all gathered around, curious, she went on: "Now, for this, we'll need to get all of the rest of the Slytherins in on it, but I think that they'll be willing to go along…"

OOO

When Hermione confided her idea, first to her three close friends, then to their other housemates, they were all utterly delighted with it! "Let the punishment fit the crime!" Marcus Flint said joyfully before grabbing a surprised, but not displeased, Hermione and giving her a big kiss on the cheek. Even Crabbe and Goyle were willing to go along with the idea. They were getting just as sick of Draco's attitude as everybody else, and they also did not want to be caught in the sidewash from his actions.

The plan took some days to put everything together. Finally, the day arrived when Operation Comeuppance could commence.

OOO

The teachers at Hogwarts had seen many strange things in their careers, and most of them thought that there was little their charges could do that would startle or shock them. However, one fine day, they found out just how wrong they were.

It all started at breakfast. The students were filing in, in the usual way, when all of a sudden, a blare of trumpets shattered the morning quiet. In the sudden silence following the trumpets' fanfare, a boy in what looked to be a medieval herald's uniform appeared. Pounding a staff three times on the floor, the boy announced: "Oyez! Oyez! Oyez! Let all present rejoice at their good fortune, for the Exalted One, the Illuminated Ascended Master, the Utmost Avatar of Superiority has descended from On High to grace this humble hall with his divine presence! Let there be merriment and happiness! Let scrolls be prepared, of the finest parchment, made of the skin of only the choicest unborn baby Snorkacks, to be inscribed with ink of gold with pens of solid silver, should the Supremest Being deign to grace our unworthy ears with his words of wisdom!"

As the teachers stared, the Slytherins came into the hall, carrying an elaborate palanquin. In the palanquin sat Draco Malfoy, who had an expression on his face that reminded those who saw him of a just-hooked fish. Before him, several of his housemates swung censers of incense, while another paced behind him, holding a redundant umbrella over his head, and the others salaaming to the floor as he came past.

McGonagall nudged Snape, who was sitting beside her. "What in the world are those children up to?"

Snape grinned. He had figured it out very quickly. "Apparently they're in the process of teaching our Mr. Malfoy that his arrogance is not welcomed by his schoolmates." McGonagall's eyes went wide, and then she smiled like a hungry cat.

Draco was shown to his place at the Slytherin table with ceremonial that Snape privately thought would have been considered too elaborate and fanciful for welcoming the Holy Roman Emperor on a state visit. When he wanted to eat, he was served by his housemates, who offered him plates on bended knee. When he left, he was carried out in his palanquin, while his herald announced: "Let us all rejoice, that the godlike countenance of Draco Malfoy deigned to shine upon our unworthy selves! Let this day be inscribed on the rolls of history! Let it be remembered forever as a day of gladness and thankfulness that we were so highly honoured!"

And so it went, for the rest of the day. Any time Draco tried to speak, his merest words were announced to all and sundry as though they were pronunciamentos from the Pope; he could not walk, but rode in his palanquin from one class to the next, and everything he said and did was treated with the utmost respect and awe. The teachers got in on the act, asking "Would your Exalted Supremacy be so kind as to inform this unworthy one about the nature and duration of the Levitation Charm, and then perform it?" or "May this infinitely lesser being request that the August Eminence that has so graciously chosen to favour us with his divine presence demonstrate that he indeed can mix a simple boil removal potion without at least three gross errors?" The students from the other houses also had great fun, bowing, curtsying, and prostrating themselves as Draco went by.

By the evening, Draco had had enough. More than enough. In the privacy of the Slytherin common room, he exploded. "Okay, already! I'm sorry! I'm sorry I treated everybody like I did! Just quit this stuff! Please! It's embarassing! Everybody's staring at me all the time!"

"But, Your Worshipful Supreme Excellence, you seemed to want just this sort of thing!" Marcus Flint pointed out, with a wicked grin. "And soon we shall be sending forth notice to the fathers of daughters, to groom their offspring for the Great Choosing! They shall be brought here, and only the finest of all shall be selected, so as to provide a mate worthy to receive the seed of such a divinely perfect being as yourself!"

"You mean we haven't come up to the standard? Oh, _woe_! Woe is us!" wailed Pansy Parkinson, theatrically raising her hand to her forehead.

"Without the favor of the Awesome Magnificent Being, our lives are as _nothing_!" sobbed Millicent Bulstrode, wiping tears from her face with a handkerchief she'd previously soaked in onion juice, for just this sort of emergency.

"Alas, our existences have been rendered _meaningless_. Nothing left to do, girls, but to all go jump off the Astronomy Tower!" cried Hermione. Every girl in the room burst into stagy tears.

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" screamed Draco. "I never wanted this! I want to be normal! I want to be just a normal Slytherin! I don't like you all treating me like I'm a combination of the Pope and a Roman Emperor! Please stop it! I said I'm sorry!"

"Oh, so you want to be _normal_, do you?" Pucey looked at Draco narrowly. "You do realise, of course, that that means things like…oh, I don't know…not pushing ahead of upperclassmen to get to the showers and expecting them to put up with it because you're a Malfoy?"

"Yes!"

"Or not treating your loving housemates like we're so many house-elves? You're perfectly able-bodied, after all…you could get your _own_ goddamned quill!" snarled Millicent Bulstrode.

"Yes!"

"And treating all of us like we're on an equal footing, instead of acting like you're royalty and we're all serfs?" growled Dudley.

"_Yes!_"

Harry looked around. "Do you think he's learned his lesson, people?" Everybody nodded, except Draco, who was hunched in a chair, crying. "Very well. We'll stop this…for now." He leaned over Draco, and purred: " But if you start letting your head swell too much again, Draco, it'll start up again, and this time we won't stop till the end of the year!"

OOO

Some days later, at Malfoy Manor, Draco's parents got a letter from a very amused Professor Snape. When they'd finished reading it, they both whooped with laughter. After they composed themselves, wiping tears from their cheeks, they read through the letter again, savoring every word.

"I must say, Draco's housemates seem to have cured him of being spoilt," Lucius commented. "I'd have anticipated that he'd find his head shoved down a toilet, but they've got a much better way to do it! Very Slytherin of them!"

"And dear Severus says that he's been working much harder on his schoolwork, instead of coasting along. I would like to meet whoever came up with this scheme," Narcissa purred.

Lucius looked thoughtful. "I wonder…would they be willing to provide this service every so often, on a paid basis…"

"No!"

"But, dear, it would be a sometimes thing only…"

"NO!"

"You wouldn't deprive me of a little harmless pleasure, would you…"

"Darling, you already have an exalted enough opinion of yourself. This would be like throwing fuel oil on a fire. Do this, and you'll be sleeping in the guest room for a long time," Narcissa snarled through a smile. "Put this on the list of things that you'll never have."

"Very well, dear…pity, that."

END Chapter 10


	11. Christmas Surprises

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 11

Christmas Surprises

by Technomad

At last, it came time for the Christmas holidays. Harry and Dudley packed up; they'd been told that Petunia would be meeting them down in London. They grinned at each other gleefully.

"Two weeks free! No more school, no more books…" sang Harry

Dudley chimed in: "No more teachers' dirty looks!"

They piled into the carriages, with Ron, Hermione and several of their other Housemates, eagerly chattering about what they wanted to do over the hols.

"I want to sleep on in!" said Ron, an esctatic look on his face. "And then pile into some of Mum's home cooking!"

"Isn't the food at Hogwarts good?" Hermione asked, concern on her face. "Is there something missing there?"

"No, but it isn't home cooking! And I'll get to see my little sister, Ginny! She's the only one of us left at home, and she says she's lonesome in the letters she writes!"

"And how often do you write her back?" asked Daphne Greengrass, a knowing look on her face. "I had three older brothers, and when they were off at Hogwarts, they forgot I existed!"

"Not as often as I should have," Ron replied, looking shamefaced. "However, when I do write, it makes up for a lot of lost time! You should have seen the letter I got after the Troll Incident! 'Oh Merlin, how did you do all that? Harry Potter must be a genius to come up with all those ideas! I can't wait to meet him!'" His voice had gone high-pitched, in an apparent imitation of Ginny.

"I didn't come up with that all by myself," Harry said, as everybody turned to look at him. "If anything, Percy deserves a lot of credit! He was the one who knew how to get us all thinking! I think he should be a teacher when he leaves Hogwarts!"

"Good luck persuading him, mate," Ron drawled. "He's got his heart set on the Ministry. He's wanted that all his life."

"Well, I'll have a talk with him." Hermione set her jaw firmly. "He shouldn't waste that teaching talent playing bureaucrat." The boys looked at each other. Silently, they agreed that Percy was in for a surprise.

On the Express, heading south, the four friends had a compartment to themselves. Draco Malfoy and his friends were aboard, but the blond was still severely chastened by the Palanquin Incident, and didn't seem inclined to make a pest of himself. Hermione grinned. "Operation Comeuppance was a complete success!"

When the Express pulled into London, the magical kids mostly had their families waiting for them on the platform. Ron was instantly claimed by a motherly-looking woman with slightly faded red hair, who clucked over how much he'd grown. "Ronald Weasley, I have to say I don't approve of you helping to dose your brothers with laxatives, but since then, Professor McGonagall says that they're much more devoted to their studies, and better-behaved!"

"Glad to hear it, Mum," Ron answered. He gestured to his friends. "Mum, I'd like you to meet Hermione Granger, Dudley Dursley, and Harry Potter." At the last name in particular, his mother's eyes went very wide.

"Oh, my dear! I'm so glad to meet you! Dears, I'd like you to meet my family! Bill, here," indicating a tall, handsome redhead with long hair pulled back in a ponytail, "is my oldest boy. He works for Gringott's Bank, as a cursebreaker. Charlie," pointing to a shorter, stockier redhead, "works as a Dragon Keeper in Romania. And this," pulling a blushing red-headed girl out from behind her, "is our only daughter, Ginny. She'll be at Hogwarts next year!"

"Pleased to meet you all!" Harry shook all their hands, noting with amusement that Ginny blushed bright scarlet and wouldn't meet his eye. "And don't take all that 'Boy Who Lived' rubbish too seriously! Honestly, people, sometimes I think someone stole my name and put it on the hero of a rubbishy series of children's stories!"

"Let's go find Mum!" Dudley's suggestion sounded excellent to Harry, and the Muggle-raised trio headed for the exit to the Muggle station. They weren't the only ones; a flock of Hogwarts students, all of them in Muggle clothes, were headed that way. The Weasleys apparently had a different way to get home; they weren't following, Harry noticed.

On the far side of the barrier, it was the same sort of happy mob scene it had been on the platforms. Harry and Dudley looked around, and Dudley's eyes lit up. "There's Mum! MUM! We're here!" A few seconds later, they were both being squeezed simultaneously by a laughing, weeping Petunia Dursley.

"Oh, it's so good to see my boys again! I've heard such good things about you at school, and I'm so proud of you! We'll have a wonderful time here in London over the holidays!" Petunia paused for a second. "Even this horrible climate can't make me less happy that I've got you back, at least for a little while!"

"It's good to see you, too, Mum!" Dudley hugged his mother back, and then stood aside so that Harry could have a go. Harry had no memories of his mother, but Aunt Petunia was a more than adequate substitute.

Petunia's eyes twinkled. "You do remember, I said I'd share the news about you with Balalaika?"

"Yes, you did. What does she have to say about how we did, our first term?"

A familiar voice with a tinge of Russian accent came from behind them, "_She_ is very pleased with you. You are a credit to her teachings!" and both boys spun around to find themselves facing Balalaika herself. She was wearing her Russian Army greatcoat, but unlike tropical Roanapur, she had it buttoned up. Balalaika smiled warmly at both of the boys, and Harry felt himself blushing bright red.

"Balalaika! Oh, this is a wonderful Christmas surprise! We never thought to see you here!" Balalaika grinned mischeviously, looking much younger than she was for a moment.

"Did you two think I could not travel? Hotel Moscow can do without me for a few days; Roanapur's quiet, and the good Sergeant Boris knows how to reach me if a crisis erupts. I haven't been to London in a long time, and after Christmas itself, I have shopping to do. You do know that Russian Christmas is January 8, don't you?"

Just about then, Hermione Granger came up, with two adults in tow who were unmistakably her parents. "Mum, Dad, I want you to meet Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley. Harry, Dudley, this is my Mum and Dad."

Harry and Dudley found their hands being shaken by a large man who looked more than a little like their friend. "Pleased to meet both of you boys! I'm Dan Granger. My wife-" pointing to a woman with brown curly hair who was hugging Hermione as though to make up for months of lost time-"and partner in our dental practice."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Granger, sir," Harry answered, as Dudley nodded agreement. "I'd like to introduce you to my aunt. Aunt Petunia, this is our friend Hermione's father, Mr. Granger."

"A pleasure, Dr. Granger," smiled Petunia. "I'm Dudley's mother, and I've raised Harry from the time he was just a little fellow. He and Dudley grew up as brothers. We live in Thailand, but since they were born here in England, they both got Hogwarts letters, like my sister, Harry's late mother, did." A shadow passed over her face for a second. "I didn't get one."

"Nobody knows why some children in non-magical families are born with magic, Mrs. Dursley," Dr. Granger said sympathetically. "It was a big surprise to us, that our Hermione was magical, but it did explain a lot about her. And she has such good things to say about your boys, and this other boy, Ron! They look out for each other like…like siblings!"

Hermione dragged her mother over to join the conversation. "Mrs. Granger? I'd like you to meet my mum," said Dudley, as the two ladies shook hands and smiled at each other.

Balalaika was standing off a little ways, smiling at all this interaction. When they got a little respite, Harry and Dudley led Hermione over to her. "Balalaika, we'd like you to meet our friend Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is our employer from Roanapur, Balalaika."

Hermione stared up, slightly awestruck at the beautiful, scarred Russian woman, as Balalaika warmly shook her hand. "A pleasure to meet you at long last, Miss Granger," Balalaika purred. "The boys have written about you, at length, and I have wanted to make your acquaintance."

Reminded that Balalaika was there, Petunia blushed and hurriedly introduced the Granger parents to her. "Now that we all know each other, may I suggest we repair somewhere for dinner? I have reservations for a private room at one of the nicer restaurants, and can take it off my taxes as a business expense!" With that, Balalaika took command, and everybody trooped out of the station, chattering together like old friends.

Over a lavish dinner, the conversation flowed freely. The subject of the Grangers' upcoming summer visit to Thailand came up quickly. "Our daughter says she'd like to pay a visit to your boys at Roanapur, while we attend that dental conference in Bangkok," said Dan Granger, sipping appreciatively at a fine wine recommended by Balalaika. "Would that be all right, Mrs. Dursley?"

Petunia and Balalaika exchanged glances. "Well…Roanapur can be rather dangerous. If she came, she'd have to promise faithfully to stay with Harry and Dudley and do as she was told at all times, without question," Petunia finally said, after receiving some sort of signal from Balalaika.

"I approve strongly of what I see in your daughter," Balalaika said. "She reminds me of a girl I knew once…gentle, intelligent, strong-willed and thirsty for knowledge. I would like to have the opportunity to make her acquaintance at greater length than these holidays will allow. I have no objection, if Mrs. Dursley is willing to take her in."

"Excellent! Then just let me know when, and I'll be able to pop on over to Bangkok to pick her up. It'll be wonderful to have her as our guest!" On that note, the dinner broke up, and Harry and Dudley were collected by their adults for the whirl of a London Christmas.

END Chapter 11


	12. On the Trail of a Mystery

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 12

by Technomad

At the end of the holidays, Harry and Dudley were more than ready to head back to school. The break from school routine had been wonderful, but they were both eager to find out what their friends had been up to over the Christmas season.

At Kings Cross, they both hugged Petunia goodbye, and shook hands with Balalaika. Then they heard a familiar voice from behind them. "Oi! Harry! Dudley! How was your holidays?" They turned just in time to see Ron Weasley, with a smile clear across his face, charging toward them, with his mother, sister and brothers in his wake.

"Just great, Ron!" Harry replied. The friends all clasped hands. "Aunt Petunia, this is Ron Weasley. He's our Housemate…and our friend. Ron, this is my Aunt Petunia. She's Dudley's mum, and she raised me."

"A pleasure to meet you, ma'am!" Ron shook Petunia's hand, then turned. "And let me introduce my mother, and my family…at least most of us. This is my mum, my brothers Percy, Fred and George, and my sister Ginny."

Petunia beamed at the Weasleys. "Oh, how lucky you are!" she exclaimed. "I only had the one child, and although I got the good fortune to have two to raise, it was at a price I'd never have wanted to pay! When I was young, I always wanted a house full of children and laughter and fun!"

Molly Weasley grinned. "Well, you should come visit us sometime, maybe when all of us are around. We've always room for more guests, and I've two more boys and a husband who aren't here. One of my boys works for Gringott's Bank, the other herds dragons."

"Herds dragons? That sounds interesting. I wonder if he'd be willing to talk to me about changing careers? Anybody who herds dragons has to have qualities I could use." That was Balalaika; Harry and Dudley hadn't seen her until just then. "Please pardon me, Petunia. I had some business I had to take care of, and it took longer than I thought it would."

"Oh, dear! Where are my manners?" Petunia blushed. "Balalaika, this is Mrs. Weasley, the mother of one of the boys' Housemates. Mrs. Weasley, this is Balalaika. I work for her in Thailand."

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Balalaika. From what my Ron says, Harry and Dudley both worship the water they think you walk on." Molly turned to gather in her children. "This is my brood: Percy's the tallest, the twins are Fred and George, then Ron, and the girl is Ginny, my youngest."

The younger Weasleys all stared openly at Balalaika. Bolder than her brothers, Ginny said: "Ma'am…doesn't that hurt?" She was staring at Balalaika's scarred face.

Petunia and Molly both whirled on Ginny to hush her, only to be stopped by a gesture from Balalaika. "Yes, Miss Ginny, it did. But that was years ago, in another country, and by now it doesn't hurt. It's an honorable battle scar." She raised an eyebrow. "I take it that your arts could have made it go right away when I got it?"

Molly Weasley cocked her head on one side, consideringly. "Difficult to say, ma'am. I've seen Aurors…that's a kind of policeman…who're chewed up a lot worse. A lot depends on how you came by it, and from what."

Percy glanced at his watch. "Blimey! We've got to get moving if we're to catch that train! Terribly sorry, but I've got to go! A pleasure meeting you, Miss Balalaika, Mrs. Dursley," and he turned to go through the barrier. Reminded, the other Weasleys bade farewell and made ready to leave. Harry and Dudley hugged Petunia and shook Balalaika's hand, and lined up to go through as well.

Once they were on the other side, they were swarmed by Hermione. "Harry! Dudley! Ron! It's so good to see you!" She hugged them all. "How was your Christmas hols? Did you have a good time?"

"We did," Dudley said, his voice slightly muffled by the girl clinging to him. When Hermione hugged someone, they were _hugged_. "Balalaika was here, of course, and we had a wonderful time together. She hadn't had a holiday in some time, and we went to see shows, and concerts."

Harry winked at their female friend. "I think she's kind of looking forward to having you visit us in Roanapur this summer. From what she said to us, she was very favorably impressed with you."

Ron snorted. "She can't have got a good impression of my family from Ginny asking her about those awful scars! Thank Merlin, you'd told me about them, so at least I wasn't staring like Tom Fool at the fair!"

Ginny looked like she was about to cry, and Harry took pity on her. "Lay off your sister, Ron! Look, Ginny," Harry bent down a little, so that he and Ginny were eye-to-eye, "Balalaika's used to that sort of reaction, and I think she actually banks on it in some ways to throw people off their balance when she's dealing with them. She also understands that you're a kid, and doesn't expect as much from you as she would from an adult."

Ginny gave Harry a beaming smile, and Harry suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable. He wasn't sure why. This was Ron's little sister, for pity's sake! Why would knowing that she liked him make him uncomfortable? He felt a little like he did back in Roanapur, with Revy or Eda teasing him.

The train ride was a pleasant interlude, and a chance to change gears from "holiday" to "school." The four friends from Slytherin claimed a compartment to themselves, and since Harry, Dudley and Hermione had all been well-provided with spending money by their respective adults, they had a respectable pile of goodies after the lady with the snack cart had come by. 

Ron looked a little diffident, but the others urged him to tuck on in. "We're mates! Whatever we have we share!" With that, all four of them took a share of the yummies. Hermione looked slightly guilty.

"If my parents found out I was eating sweets, they'd hit the ceiling," she confessed. "They're dentists, and they're a bit fanatical on the subject of 'no sweets.'"

"But, Hermione, don't you know that a Healer can put your teeth right in no time at all?" Ron looked at Hermione, slightly wide-eyed. When Hermione explained what Muggle dentists had to do, Ron looked slightly green. "On second thought, you lot can _have_ this stuff. All of a sudden I'm not very hungry." Harry and Dudley grinned at each other as they divvied up most of Ron's share of their plunder.

They were very glad to see the towers of Hogwarts off across the distance. "That's as close to a home as we have, at least in Britain," Harry murmured to Dudley, who nodded.

The foursome were soon ensconced cozily in the Slytherin common room, down in the dungeons. "It's so cozy in here, particularly when the weather's horrible outside," Ron commented, luxuriating in a leather chair.

"Tell us about it!" Harry replied feelingly. While he liked a lot of things about Britain, the weather and climate were emphatically not on that list. He had become acclimated to the tropics in his years there, and did not like cold and damp combined.

A few days after classes started again, Hermione signalled her three male friends to join her at a quiet corner of the Great Hall. When they were all together, she looked around uneasily. "Do you ever get the idea that something's awfully odd around here?"

At her friends' exasperated looks, she went on: "There's something hidden in the school, and I think Professor Snape is after it for some reason! Remember at that Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Slytherin? He and Quirrell were squabbling about something." Harry, Dudley and Ron all nodded. They remembered. "Well, Snape's been prowling around the school! He turned up hurt at one point. Wouldn't it be a hoot if we figured out what it was ahead of him?"

"We'd get a ton of points for our house," Dudley gloated. Of all of them, he was the one who took the point totals the most seriously.

"And we'd be doing Snape a big favor. 'A Slytherin always pays his debts,' remember? If he owed us, we could call it in sometime." Harry leaned forward. "Let's put our minds on this and see what we can suss out about what's been going on around here."

"There was some sort of brouhaha about Hagrid, about a month before the hols," mused Hermione. "I wonder what he knows?"

"Hagrid did say he'd like to see me," Harry answered. "He was apparently the one who delivered me to Aunt Petunia's doorstep. Maybe we should make time to go visit him."

A few days later, the four friends were sitting side-by-side in Hagrid's hut. The huge man had been delighted to hear from Harry, and eagerly offered to have Harry and his friends over to talk.

"Grand to see ya, Harry! You look just like your father, except for those green eyes. Those you got from your mum." Hagrid paused to wipe away a tear. "Yer mum and dad…they were some of the best."

"What were they like?"

"Yer dad was top of his class at Transfiguration, an' your mum was a whiz at Charms. Head Boy an' Girl in their year! An' both Gryffindors! I wonder what they'd think to see you in green an' white?" Hagrid grinned. "I was the one who left you at your aunt's place, you know! Dumbledore's orders!"

"Best favor you could have done me," Harry answered. "Without that, I might never have met Dudley, here, and Dudley's like my brother!" Dudley grinned as Harry slapped him companionably on the back. "I can't imagine life without him!"

"And I can't picture what life would have been like without you!" For a second, Dudley looked sad. "I wish my dad and your folks could have lived…but things turned out all right, didn't they?"

"I saw you boys in Diagon Alley, bein' taken around by Professor McGonagall," Hagrid confided. "I'd have loved to chat with ye…but I was on business. Had to get somethin' from Gringott's. Somethin' special."

"What was that?" Hermione asked.

"Can't tell ye. More'n my job's worth to tell ye. But it's in the castle now. Safest place for it. Fluffy'll keep it safe."

"And what is a 'Fluffy?'" Ron took a sip of the tea. Unlike the rock cakes, which all four Slytherins had quietly disposed of in their pockets to be gotten rid of without hurting their host's feelings, the tea was quite good.

"Fluffy's me dog. Sweetest li'l three-headed dog ye ever saw in yer lives. Mind, he's a big 'un, but just play 'im some music an' he goes right off to sleep." Hagrid suddenly looked slightly startled. "Oops! Forget I said that!"

"Oh, we will, Hagrid. Consider it forgotten!" Harry flashed a grin at his friends, and let them see the fingers he had crossed behind his back.

Once they got back to the safety of the Slytherin quarters, the four put their heads together. Ron said: "There was a report of a break-in attempt at Gringott's, before school started. What day did McGonagall take you there?" When Harry and Dudley told him, Ron pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, noting the date down.

"And I wonder where in this school could they hide a three-headed dog?" Hermione mused. "That corridor on the third floor, the one that's out of bounds?"

All four of them nodded. "At least we can investigate that area first," Harry concluded. Just then, one of the Slytherin seventh-year prefects cleared her throat to signal the beginning of the designated evening study hours, and they pulled out books and bundles of notes from their classes, bending to their burden of schoolwork.

END Chapter 12


	13. To the Trapdoor

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 08

A Little Prep.

As soon as they could, the four friends headed up to the third floor. It was a quiet day; the older students were mostly in Hogsmeade. With Ron and Dudley on watch to ensure that they wouldn't be interrupted, Hermione and Harry squatted before the door.

"Locked." They nodded. That was no big surprise. "Let's have a go with the brace-and-bit."

Harry nodded, taking the tools out of the bag they had brought along. He fit a bit into the hand drill and began drilling, taking his time. Hermione carefully gathered up every bit of sawdust; they didn't want to leave traces of their activities.

After a surprisingly long time, the bit was through, and Harry gently worked it out of the hole they had made. Harry and Hermione grinned at each other, as Hermione held up a small object. "That was a brilliant idea, Hermione," Harry whispered, as Hermione screwed the peephole lens into the hole they'd made. With it, seeing through the hole became much easier. And the beauty of it was, it was completely non-magical, so any spells set to detect unauthorized magic use would not be set off.

"Look! What do you see?" Hermione peered through the peephole. Then she turned to Harry, with a wink.

"Wonderful things!" At Harry's amazed look, she explained: "That was what the first man to get a look into King Tutankhamen's tomb, in Egypt, said when they'd made a hole into the tomb." Harry snorted, and Hermione went on: "It's a three-headed dog, all right. It's sitting in front of a trapdoor."

Ron and Dudley came for a look, as Harry and Hermione went to take up the watch. After they'd had a good look at the dog, they moved away, and Hermione put a patch of duct tape over the peephole. "It's dimly enough lit here, nobody should notice that. Besides, it's down low enough that it's easy to overlook."

Back in the Slytherin dungeons, the four friends put their heads together.

"Okay, first thing we need is some sort of source of music that'll put that bloody dog to sleep," Harry said. He looked around. "Any ideas?"

Ron smiled. "We have a wind-up music box at home. Once it's going, it keeps going for over an hour at a time. I'll owl Mum to send it to me."

"Great idea, Ron!" Dudley slapped Ron on the back and Hermione gave him a surprised look.

"I never would have thought of that," she said in a small voice. "I'd have been thinking in terms of magic. Just a simple music box would never have occurred to me."

"Don't feel bad, Hermione," said Dudley. "I would have made the same mistake. I'm still so new to magic that I tend to think it can do almost anything." He grinned. "Except take down a troll. Right, Harry?"

"Right, Dudley!" All four of the friends smiled reminiscently. The boys from Roanapur had made Hogwarts history with their exploit, and currently basked in Snape's favor.

"Well, between us, we should be able to get past that dog and find out just what it's guarding that's so important! It can't be dangerous, after all. What sort of _idiot _would keep something dangerous in a school full of children?" asked Ron. All four of them agreed on the last point. It would take a total maniac to do something like that!

Back at the Slytherin common room, Ron wrote out a letter asking for the loan of the music box, and the quartet headed on up to the Owlery to send it. Pixie the cat tagged along. She apparently didn't fear owls; instead, she seemed to see them as professional colleagues and allies in the eternal war on mice and other small rodents.

When the letter was sent out, Harry and Dudley went to their room and opened their trunks, going through the "implements" that they had brought along from Roanapur. "Thank Merlin, Professor McGonagall was able to distract HM Customs," Harry said, going over a set of lock picks to make sure they were all in good working order.

"Do you think we should pack guns?" Dudley looked over the firepower they had.

"I'm not sure. After that debacle with the machine gun, I'm leery of this ammunition." Harry cast a dubious look at the boxes of cartridges they had been sent. They were discolored, and the brass was not the shiny gold color that Harry expected to see. They had sent an owl to Roanapur with a detailed account of the Troll Incident, describing exactly what had gone wrong with their machine gun, but had not heard back yet about what had come of it. Balalaika had merely said that she would look into it when they had asked her, over the Christmas holidays.

"We're reasonably checked-out on offensive spells," Dudley mused, pulling out his wand. It was true; Slytherin House had a _sub-rosa_ system where promising younger members were tutored in more advanced offensive, and defensive, spellcasting than their schoolmates got in the standard curriculum. "Ever since the fall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, we've labored under a cloud of suspicion," Snape had explained to them, "and there are people out there who react to any member of our House as though we were all Death Eaters."

"Even me?" Harry had asked.

"Frankly, Mr. Potter, nobody knows what to make of your Sorting. Quite a few people, I am told, were surprised that you didn't Sort into Gryffindor."

In any case, the four friends were all well up on combat magic. Hermione took to any extra learning with a frightening avidity, and the look in her eyes when she learned a particularly effective offensive spell sometimes made Harry wonder about his friend_. Had she been bullied or mistreated before getting to Hogwarts?_ He didn't quite know how to ask.

Ron combined a talent for spellwork with a keen strategic brain. When they got together to study in the evening, he often had incisive comments to make about the mistakes made by both sides in great battles of the past, and he complained bitterly that their History of Magic teacher was so inadequate.

"How can we learn from the past if the teacher we're given puts us to sleep?" he asked. Ron also dominated the intra-House chess scene, despite being a first-year. He had explained: "I may _be_ a pureblood, but the rules of chess don't change between wizards and Muggles. Dad subscribes to some Muggle chess magazines, and we study them together. We follow the chess tournaments that way."

"So tonight's a go on 'Operation Cerberus.'" Harry said. They had found out that a three-headed dog figured in Classical mythology, as the guardian of the gates to the underworld. "Let's hope that we don't meet Hades."

"From your mouth to the gods' ears," commented Ron. Ron had come in while the cousins were getting ready, and his eyes went wide at what they were bringing along.

"You sure you've got enough blades there?" he asked. Harry looked at the array of knives and throwing stars he had chosen.

"Better to have them and not need them than to need them and not have them, mate," Harry said. "We don't know just what we're going to be facing down there, after all."

That afternoon, they heard that Professor Dumbledore was planning to be away from the school, and they looked at each other and winked. The perfect opening!

After they were supposed to be in bed, the four friends forgathered in the Slytherin common room. Ron held up the music box. "I tested it earlier, and it'll play for an hour once it's fully wound up."

"Good," Hermione said. "That dog doesn't look like anything I'd want to deal with. If we can neutralize him, this'll be a lot easier."

"What'll be easier?" came an unexpected voice. The four friends turned, and groaned in unison as Draco Malfoy emerged from hiding. "Why are you going out? We're supposed to be in bed!" His pale eyes narrowed. "You're going to get us all into lots of trouble! I should tell Professor Snape!"

"Draco," Harry said soothingly, as though to a frightened animal, "we're doing this to _help_ Professor Snape. He's looking for something in the castle, and we think we know where it is. Just relax, okay? We know what we're doing. Didn't we take down that troll?"

"Yeah, but that was different! I'm going to go get a prefect!"

"Oh, are you?" Hermione smiled a rather nasty smile, and her wand was suddenly in her hand. _"Petrificus Totalus!" _ The blond boy toppled over, stiff as a board. Hermione bent over him, her eyes suddenly full of sorrow. "I'm sorry, Draco, but we really do think we need to do this thing. You'll understand once it's all over."

Cautiously, the four friends slipped out of the Slytherin common room, into the dark corridors of the castle. With their greater experience in stealth and staying hidden, Harry and Dudley took the lead. One of them would go ahead to the next corner, and only when he signalled the "all clear" would the others come up to join him. They were all wearing soft slippers, and made almost no noise.

The familiar school corridors looked different at night, almost ghostly with the moon shining in through the windows and painting things in a pearly white light. They moved forward down the halls, communicating only in sign language; the portraits they passed were all sleeping, but they knew that if the inhabitants of the paintings knew they were near, they could easily set up an alarm that would get them caught.

At one point, Dudley peeked around a corridor and signalled urgently for all of them to freeze. They hid in the deepest shadows they could find as Peeves the poltergeist floated by, snickering to himself about some nastiness or other that he'd pulled on some Hufflepuffs earlier that day. Only when the mischevious spirit had been gone for several minutes did they move on, and Harry felt cold sweat all over his body at the close call they'd had. He mentally blessed the training that Balalaika had put him and Dudley through, training that he'd tried to pass on to his friends.

At length, they got to the door they wanted, on the third floor of the school. Harry had looked at the lock on the door earlier, and had decided that the modern-style lock tools they had smuggled in were not suitable to deal with the odd old-fashioned lock that held the door shut. "All that we'd do," he had told the others, "would be to break our tools, and jam the lock shut. Not to mention telling the next person to try that lock that someone had been at it."

Instead, he pointed his wand, whispering "_Alohomora!_"Sure enough, the door opened, with a groan from the unoiled hinges that was swiftly suppressed with a hissed "_Silencio!_" from one of his friends.

The dog was lying there asleep, but at their entrance, one of its six eyes began to open. Then all six eyes snapped open and the dog was on its feet, growling threateningly.

Ron pulled out the music box, put it on the floor and hit the key to start it. The first notes of _Music Box Dancer_ began to play, and the dog's eyes went wide, before drifting shut again. In a few minutes, three rumbling snores told them that the dog was safely asleep. They approached the trap door in front of it cautiously, not quite trusting the music to keep the dog under.

The trap door opened soundlessly, and Harry pulled out a rope, making it fast to one of the pillars in the corners of the room. "Dudley and I will rappel down first," he said, "and once all's clear, we can float you two down with our wands."

As the cousins made ready to go, Ron said wistfully: "I kind of wish my dad had taught me more about how Muggles do things. Depending on magic all the time's not always the best way, I'm finding."

END Chapter 13


	14. In the Labyrinth

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 14

Into the Labyrinth

by Technomad

Harry and Dudley swung down through the darkness, finally landing on something soft. "It's not that far down," Harry called up. "Floating you down will be no problem at all!" Then he pulled his wand, to find, to his horror, that he and Dudley were standing in a huge patch of a strange plant, that was already winding tendrils around their legs. "Hermione! What is this stuff?"

"It's Devil's Snare! It doesn't like fire!"

"Oh, is _that_ so?" As the tendrils reached higher and higher on the two cousins, Dudley pulled out a flare. "Look away from this!" With a wicked grin, he activated the flare, and the plant shrank away, hissing as the white-hot phosphorus burnt its tendrils. Harry, forewarned, covered his eyes; he didn't want his night vision to be knocked out. Not down there, he didn't! Dudley also had his arm over his eyes until the flare burned out.

Clinging to the ropes, Ron and Hermione swung down. Ron gaped at the damage the flare had done. "Blimey! What was that?"

"A standard flare. I brought a few along for places where we might need lots of light. These wands are all right, but give me a flare if you need real light!" Dudley grinned at Ron's astonishment.

"They did say they were planning to use Muggle methods as well as magic, Ron," Hermione commented. "Come on, time's a-wasting. Let's see what else is down here!" As they moved off, Harry could still hear the thin strains of _Music Box Dancer _from Ron's music box, and he hoped the thing would still be playing when they got back.

The four friends found themselves traipsing cautiously down a dark, dank corridor. Harry wondered if they would end up under the lake itself; he wasn't too sure, but it did feel like they were getting farther away from Hogwarts with every step. Ahead, he could hear an odd rustling.

"Who'd have thought there were so many passages under the castle?" muttered Hermione. "They weren't mentioned in _Hogwarts, a History_."

"Odds are they're secret. Either nobody knows they're here, or, more likely, very few people know they're here, and whoever wrote that book was warned not to mention them." Harry muttered back. "And for Buddha's sake, _keep quiet_!" Balalaika's training had emphasized not making unnecessary noise when on an op, and Harry had learned to trust Balalaika's wisdom implicitly.

The foursome stepped out, blinking, into a brilliantly-lit chamber. "Blimey, this is big! It's hard to believe we're underground!" Ahead of them, they could see a large, closed door.

"And, look!" Ron pointed up. Above them, what looked like a flock of glittering small birds, or large insects, fluttered to and fro. "Do you think they might attack us?"

"One way to find out!" Before the others could stop him, Harry was across the chamber, kneeling at the door. "Bugger! It's locked somehow!"

"Let me try!" Hermione was at Harry's side, her wand out and at the ready. _"Alohomora!"_ Unfortunately, the spell didn't seem to want to work; the door stayed stubbornly closed. As Harry and Hermione examined the door, Ron and Dudley stood by, their wands out, scanning for danger in all directions. For a second, Harry felt like he was back in Roanapur, working on some project for Balalaika, and he felt a second's racking homesickness.

Dudley was peering closely at the glittering "birds." He cleared his throat. "Harry, those aren't birds. Those are keys. Keys that were charmed to have wings."

"You sure of that?" Harry paused from his efforts to pick the lock to look up. He couldn't quite see what Dudley was seeing, but his glasses were smeared, and he had always relied on Dudley's better vision. He narrowed his eyes, straining to see. "Ron? What do you think?"

Ron pointed to four brooms that were leaning against the wall. "I think the idea is to figure out which key fits the door, catch it, and then use it to open the door."

"This is like a test. A test of magical power and intelligence," said Hermione. She gave them all a grin. "And you know me and tests!" Before the others could react, she had grabbed a broom and zoomed out and into the air. Not to be outdone, the other three were soon airborne, chasing keys.

Harry was the best on a broom of the four of them, something he attributed to natural talent, since Ron had been flying for years before Harry had ever dreamed such a thing was possible. However, none of them were slouches in the air. The Slytherin Quidditch team had made sure of that, with special extra sessions of flying training under Marcus Flint's cold, knowing eye for all the first-years. Marcus' watchword was "Every Slytherin will be able to fly, or I will know the reason why!" Only when a firstie had managed to satisfy the Quidditch Captain did he or she get excused from the sessions, and many of them kept on with them because they were often quite enjoyable in their own right.

By that time in their lives, broom flying seemed as natural as riding a bicycle did to Harry, Dudley and Hermione. Once they were in the air, the keys began taking evasive manouvers. Dudley and Ron split off, heading in a direction to intercept the mass of keys, and Hermione and Harry herded them toward their friends.

"Ah-HAH!" Ron's hand whipped out, too fast for the eye to follow, and snagged a large, ornate key. "I bet you're the one!"

"What makes you think that, Ron?"

"This one's the same color metal as the lock, and it looks like it would fit. Come on, let's give it a go. If it doesn't work, there's always more." Suiting action to words, Ron flew down and tried the key in the lock. "See? Told you!" He gave them all a grin like a Jack O'Lantern. With a click, the door opened.

The four Slytherins passed through, to find themselves among what seemed, at first, to be serried ranks of statues. There was something very familiar about those statues, something that tickled at the edges of Harry's memory. Memories of rainy afternoons at the Yellowflag, sitting at a table with one of Balalaika's Russians across from him, playing…

"Buddha help us," he whispered, "it's a giant chess set!"

Once he had placed what it was, it all snapped into place. He and his friends were standing at the back row of the black side of the board, between the King and Queen. Harry shivered. He had seen many games of Wizard's Chess in the Slytherin common room, usually with Ron happily demolishing whoever was silly enough to challenge him. The way the pieces smashed into each other with weapons was unnerving enough when the pieces were a few inches tall. These were taller than any of the four friends, and their weapons looked very, very real.

"Let's get across," whispered Dudley. The quartet began to file across the board. Once they passed the line of black pawns, several of the white pawns stood up and unsheathed their swords threateningly. They all halted. "Or, maybe not?" gulped Dudley.

"So far," Hermione reasoned, "these have all been tests of our abilities. Like whoever put them here wants only those who can handle whatever's down here to be able to pass."

"And this is chess," said Ron. "We can play our way across the board!"

"Brilliant, Ron!" Hermione grabbed the redheaded boy and gave him a kiss, making him blush as red as his hair. "We'll have to take the roles of chess pieces. Which of us should be which?"

Ron considered it, his head tilted slightly to one side as he thought. "Harry, you take the place of the Queen's bishop. Hermione, Dudley, you can both take the place of the rooks. I'll be the King's side knight. Those are the most manouverable piece, and I can get all around the board that way." At Ron's words, the pieces he named bowed and marched off the board, and the four friends took their places, as the game opened, with white, as always, playing first. White's opening was fairly standard: Queen's bishop's pawn to QB-3.

"Oh, good," Ron commented, his voice tight with tension. "At least we're up against a conventional player. Good job we're not up against someone who plays like Percy does. That guy specializes in doing the unexpected." The other three stared at Ron for a second. "Unexpected" was the last word that Harry would have used to describe Percy. Ron came to a decision, and called out "Queen's Knight's Pawn to QK-2!"

And with that, the game was on. Pieces moved across the board at the command of their unseen opponent, and Ron had to dart about, doing his best to preserve his friends from capture while doing as much damage to the white side as he could. Again and again, he saved his friends by directing other black pieces into positions to block the white side from capturing them.

"What do you think of our opponent?" asked Hermione, when they had a moment close together to talk. Harry was not far away, but Dudley was clear across the board, threatening several of the white side's pieces with capture merely by being in the position he was in.

Ron's brow creased. "Whoever's controlling the other side knows how to play, but I'd say he or she lacks the real fire that goes to make up a good chess player. The other side plays like they have to, not for the love of the game." Ron's eyes sparkled, and Harry could tell that his redheaded mate was having the time of his life, despite the deadly danger they faced.

"But you love the game for itself, don't you, Ron?" Harry asked.

"Chess or Quidditch, it doesn't matter! When I'm doing either one, it's like the only time I'm really alive!" Harry was reminded of the times he'd seen Revy Two-Hands in a gunfight, or Balalaika finishing up a scheme. At times like those, the masks both women wore slipped, and he could see pure joy shining through. Ron had the same expression on his face. It was the look of a person who had found his life's work, and was inexpressibly happy doing it. For a second, Harry envied him.

"Back to the game," Ron muttered. "Dudley, move left and take that knight. That'll leave an opening for them to put our King into check. Then I'll take their queen, and their rook will take me-and you'll be able to checkmate their King, Harry."

"Got you, Ron!" Dudley was hell-on-wheels in a street fight, but he was no great chess player, and he trusted Ron implicitly. Once he'd moved into the knight's space, he took it out with a vicious punch. The white queen, free from Dudley's threat, moved forward to threaten the black king. Grimly, Ron moved into the white queen's space, and shoved her over. The white rook rumbled forward across the board, with Ron staring at it, his face white with fear but set in determination. The rook swung its weapon, a heavy mace, and Ron flew off his space to lie very still.

"Hold still!" yelled Harry, as Dudley and Hermione moved as though to go to their friend's aid. "We're still playing chess!" Slowly and carefully, Harry marched across the board, stopping in front of the white king. "_Checkmate_!"

The white king took off his crown, and threw it at Harry's feet. For a second, Harry thought he could see actual expression on the impassive features. Was that a look of respect? Harry would never know, and at the moment, he didn't care. He, Hermione and Dudley were all converging on Ron.

Carefully, Dudley rolled Ron over on his back and got his eyes open. "His pupils are different sizes. That means a concussion. And I don't like the way he wheezes when he breathes." He palpated the redhead's side, and Ron let out a loud groan. "Those are broken ribs, or I've never felt any!"

The friends exchanged grim looks. "Look, there's nothing much we can do for him here," Harry finally said, hating himself for saying it. "Dudley, you levitate Ron, go back into the room with the keys, and get one of those brooms. Fly out past the dog, and get Ron to Madam Pomfrey. She'll have him right as rain. Hermione, you and I can go on. One way or another, I'm getting to the bottom of this nonsense, tonight!"

Dudley and Hermione both stared at Harry. They had never heard such a commanding tone from him. Dudley finally broke the silence: "Harry-have you been taking 'Balalaika' lessons? For a second there, it was like she was here!"

"I've watched her in action, and so have you, Dudley," Harry replied. "It'd be strange if some things hadn't rubbed off in all those years. And you know that she'd do what was needful to get what she was doing done."

Dudley snapped off a salute, with not a bit of irony, and levitated Ron; the redhead had lost consciousness. Hermione gave Harry a quizzical look. "I have absolutely got to visit Roanapur," Hermione said ruefully. "I want to learn what this woman can teach me!"

"I'll look forward to seeing you there," Harry said. "In the meantime, we've got to go on." Hermione took a deep breath, hefted her wand and followed Harry to the far side of the room, where a door was visible. Behind them, Dudley and Ron left in the other direction, and Harry sent a moment's good wishes after them. He was sorry to lose Dudley's support, but Ron was down and hurt, and Balalaika had always said that the wounded were a very high priority.

The door, for a change, wasn't locked, but Harry knew better than to let that lull him into false confidence. He knelt and took out the brace-and-bit that they had used earlier to drill a hole in the door to the room where the dog awaited. Cautiously and slowly, he drilled out a hole, then put his eye to it.

"What do you see?" Hermione was all but dancing with impatience and eagerness.

Harry turned away with a look of disgust. "They've got another bloody mountain troll, don't they?" He sighed. "And us without any firepower this time!"

END Chapter 14


	15. Trolls Doing Ballet

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 15

Trolls Doing Ballet

by Technomad

"Right," sighed Harry. "That's all we bloody _don't_ need, isn't it?" If Hermione had been male, he'd have likely indulged in some of the riper language he'd learned in Roanapur. However, Aunt Petunia and Balalaika had both made it clear that around "nice" women, which included them and his female classmates, that sort of speech was taboo. One of the few times he'd ever seen Balalaika visibly angry was when he'd forgotten she was present and let loose with a stream of English, Thai and Russian invective when frustrated over something.

"There is no need for that sort of behavior, Harry," she had said, as Harry turned white at the thought that he'd offended Balalaika. "Calmness and rational thought will always see a soldier through. Revy Two-Hands is not a person I wish to see you emulating…in _any _way." The words had struck home, and Harry had taken them very much to heart.

"Look, the situation's not that bad," Hermione offered. "We aren't having to deal with it immediately. We can figure out what the best course of action is."

Harry brightened up. That was true. "Those things aren't exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer, are they? Would illusions fool them?" They had learned how to cast some simple illusions in Flitwick's class, and Harry and Dudley had studied hard; they had both seen instantly how useful such things could be in Roanapur.

Hermione smiled evilly. "That's a wonderful idea, Harry! And they're clumsy…clumsy as all-get-out. That gives me a wonderful idea…" As she explained just what she had in mind, Harry smiled more and more broadly.

The troll was surprised when the door burst open, and came out of a half-stupor, roaring and grabbing for its club. Before it could do more than jump to its feet, it was apparently surrounded by yelling attackers, capering just out of range of a club swing, gibbering and screaming. With a howl of rage, the troll charged forward…and fell flat on its face. It scrabbled for footing, its feet and hands unable to find purchase on the stone floor. It howled and struggled, as helpless as a hog on ice. Swiping at its tormentors, it paid no attention to the two figures running across the room in the background.

On the other side of the room, Harry and Hermione wasted no time, but hurried across; their spells didn't affect them, and every second counted. Harry grinned. "Hermione, you're a genius. An evil _genius_. Slicking things up…_Balalaika_ would be pleased to have thought of that stunt!" He could see uses for that tactic, and made a mental note.

Hermione blushed nearly crimson. She _wasn't_ really used to praise from other kids. "Thanks, Harry. A troll's perfectly harmless if it can't reach you, after all. And this way we don't hurt the poor thing. I felt rather bad for that one you had to kill down in the dungeons. I'm glad we know more magic and had more time to think of something."

"This way is less noisy, too," Harry remarked, as they got to the far side of the room. "In any case, I don't trust the ammunition we have any more; once we're back home, Dudley and I want to have a talk with the person who supplied it." 

"I can not _believe_ that Roanapur's such a rough place that the biggest arms merchant in the place doubles as a Catholic mission," Hermione declared. "My vicar at home would be utterly shocked."

"That's the sort of place Roanapur is," Harry answered. They opened the door, and slipped through, to find themselves confronted by a row of bottles. "What is this place-the Yellowflag?" Harry asked. Then the two friends found themselves surrounded by flames.

"Right," muttered Hermione. "This looks like another puzzle to solve." She picked up a roll of paper. "Oh-kay, this gives us the clues we need to solve it." She began muttering to herself, looking at the bottles, which varied greatly in height and color. Finally she pointed at two bottles. "This one will let the drinker go back, while this other one here will let its drinker go forward." She picked up the bottle with the second potion in it and peered at it. "Does this look like it's enough for both of us?"

Harry took it from her and looked. "Nope." Before Hermione could stop him, he popped the cork off and poured it down with a gesture unconsciously copied from all the times he'd seen Revy Two-Hands slamming back rum in the Yellowflag. He was glad he'd done it that way; the stuff tasted, in the very brief time he had it in his mouth, like sewage. He knew what that tasted like from an unexpected detour through the sewers one time, with several of Abrego's Colombians after him and Dudley for some items they were carrying for Balalaika.

Hermione stared, shocked, as ice seemed to flow through Harry's veins. "Harry James Potter! What do you think you're doing?" she whispered. "I thought I would go along with you! Aren't we friends?"

"We're friends, Hermione, but you weren't raised in Roanapur," Harry explained, nerving himself to pass through the fire. "If there's a fight ahead, I think I'm better able to handle it than you are. Please go on back and see how Ron's doing. I'm worried about him, and Dudley."

As Harry turned to go, Hermione said: "I wish I had been raised in Roanapur, too, Harry. The more I see of what you've become, the more I admire this 'Balalaika' person. I hope to see you this summer."

"I hope to see _you_ in a little while, Hermione," Harry replied, leaping through the flames, which warmed his body back to its normal temperature. He stood there for a few minutes, relishing the feeling. Tropic-raised, he emphatically disapproved of cold, which made Scottish winters less pleasant for him than for many of his classmates.

Before him, a door loomed, and he put out his hand and cautiously turned the knob. It opened without any problems, and he stepped through, finding himself in a large, empty room. Before him stood a familiar object: the Mirror of Erised. He stepped forward to take another look in the Mirror; he had quite enjoyed what he had seen the other time he'd looked. The thought of being the undisputed boss of all Roanapur did have its appeal…

Just then, an oddly-familiar voice came from behind him, startling him. "Well, well, well. If it isn't the Boy who Lived. Turn around slowly, Potter, and don't try any funny tricks. I've got my wand out and pointed."

Harry carefully kept his hands in sight, just like he might at home if someone had the drop on him. He hadn't been able to place that voice, and gasped when he saw who it was. "Professor Quirrell?"

"Yes, me," Professor Quirrell said. The man looked the same as always, with his turban and purple robes, but the manner was completely different. Gone was the diffidence, the trembling hands, the stammer. This was a man who could confront the Dark Arts. Harry thought for a second that if he had been this way while teaching his class, he'd have commanded his pupils' respect effortlessly.

"What are you doing down here, sir?"

"I could ask you the same question, Mr. Potter. You're out awfully late. And to get here, you had to get past a great many things intended to keep nosy, meddling brats like yourself at bay."

"My friends and I know there's something hidden in the school, and that Professor Snape's looking for it. We thought that if we found it, the poor old fellow would appreciate us doing the heavy lifting. People his age shouldn't ought to be doing heavy work, anyway."

"Is that what you think?" Quirrell laughed mirthlessly. "Ah, Severus…always slinking around like an overgrown bat! Everybody pays so much attention to him, while p-p-poor s-s-stuttering P-p-professor Quirrel goes overlooked!" Quirrell raised his wand. "Enough talk, Potter! I'm trying to get the treasure out of that mirror, and I can't do it! Let's see what you can do!"

Staring into the Mirror, Harry saw himself, yet again, as undisputed boss of Roanapur…and then the Harry in the Mirror winked at him and pointed at his pocket. Harry felt an unfamiliar weight in the corresponding pocket in his clothes, and his eyes went wide. Somehow…he didn't know exactly how…he had retrieved whatever was in the Mirror!

"What do you see, Potter?"

Harry decided on partial truth. "Me, in the future. I'm boss of my home town, and everybody obeys me."

Quirrell whirled him around. "You're a Slytherin, boy. That's a very Slytherin thing to want." He scowled. "But that _doesn't help me get the Stone_!" Quirrell stared into the Mirror. "I see myself, giving the stone to my Master…but how to get it?"

Then, a high-pitched voice from nowhere: "He lies…Potter _lies_!"

"What? Master?"

"Take off the turban, servant. I wish to confront Potter myself!" Harry stared as Quirrell straightened up, obediently unwinding the length of cloth from around his head and turning around so that his back was to Harry. However, although Quirrell was facing away, there was another face on the back of his head, staring at Harry with unbridled malevolence.

"Do you recognise me, Harry?" asked the face. "It has been so long…so long since I saw you last, sitting there in your crib next to the body of your mother…"


	16. The Two-Faced Professor

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 16

The Two-Faced Man

by Technomad

Harry stared and stared. He'd been told, of course, about Voldemort; how the evil wizard had killed many people before attempting to kill him, only to somehow have his Killing Curse misfire and destroy the one who'd fired it. _Guess he wasn't as destroyed as all that,_ Harry thought.

"All I am," crooned Voldemort, "is spirit, unless someone like my good little servant, here, provides me with a body. And all thanks to you, Harry Potter."

Harry tamped the fear that was clamoring in his mind down firmly, with an effort, and smiled. "All part of the service. No tips required." He'd heard one of Boss Chang's men, back in Roanapur, saying that after beating the stuffing out of someone who'd tried to short-weight them in a contraband transaction, and the line seemed to fit.

His insolence infuriated Voldemort. "Wretched mudblood! Your fate will be the stuff of legend…written in Books of Pain…" In his rage, Voldemort sputtered, and Quirrell jerked into motion, seeming to lurch backward to grab Harry.

Harry, however, did not like the idea of being grabbed by any adult. That was something that had been inculcated in him from earliest childhood. "Never, never let any adult that you don't know well lay hands on you!" Hugs from Aunt Petunia, or physical contact from Sergeant Boris or one of his men when they were training, were one thing, but there was no way he'd let _this_ fool lay a finger on him!

_First, throw your enemy off his balance; do something unexpected!_ It was as though Sergeant Boris was right there; Harry could all but hear the Russian's voice. Quirrell was still lurching backwards, under Voldemort's control, and Harry instantly saw just how to disrupt that control in a way Voldemort would never think of.

He spat. Accurately. To his delight, he hit his target squarely, as his sputum landed straight in one of Voldemort's red eyes.

The evil wizard screamed in rage. Before he could recover, Harry ducked forward, rolling, and catching Quirrell behind his knees, sending the former teacher sprawling on the floor, his wand flying out of his hand as he frantically tried to protect his "Master." With years of martial-arts training behind him, Harry bounced to his feet, his wand in his hand.

"Blasphemer! Wretch!" shrieked Voldemort.

"Master! What am I to do?" wailed Quirrell, as the two of them fought for control of his body.

"_Nyekulturny muzhiki! Duraki_!" snarled Harry. Russian was such a satisfying language to swear in, and calling his enemies uncultured peasants and fools felt very good, indeed. "_Mudaki_!*" He cast the same spell Hermione had used earlier, and Quirrellmort suddenly couldn't get traction or back on his feet no matter how frantically he thrashed.

To Harry's great surprise, Voldemort gave back as good as he got, as Quirrell fought to get back on his feet. _"Na kaleni, suka!**" _The face on the back of Quirrell's head gave Harry a wicked grin, looking, for a second, like a naughty schoolboy who'd successfully pulled a prank. "Did you honestly think you're the only person in Britain who speaks Russian? _Yebanko maloetny_!***"

Harry saw that Quirrellmort had managed to figure out how to get back up, and decided to give him some fresh trouble. Hermione had shown him how to make magical fire all but sit up and beg, and he quickly cast a charm to set Quirrell's robes on fire. Sure enough, the hems of Quirrell's robes were afire, and the possessed professor slapped at the fires, forgetting to get up in his fear of the flames.

Time to make like a tree…and leave! Harry figured it was past his bedtime anyway, so he sprinted for the door. Unfortunately, Quirrell saw what he was doing and threw a spell that slammed the door before Harry could get to it. "You're not going anywhere, you little wretch," Quirrell panted.

Harry whirled around, his wand up. Quirrell was back on his feet, and the dispute about who was in charge of the body seemed to be resolved. Slowly and clumsily, the hems of his garments smoldering, he advanced, his hands out to grab Harry. "I have you now, you little swine," he whispered. "You're not going anywhere, and soon…soon my master will have what he wants!"

"_Yob tvoyu'mat!****"_ Harry shouted.

000

Up in his office, Professor Dumbledore was talking with Snape about the details of the upcoming Potions NEWT; Snape had several students who he believed would benefit from advanced training, post-Hogwarts, and they were discussing the best venues to suggest to them. Just then, several alarms went off, and both professors turned to see what the problem was.

"Someone's after the Stone!" Both men tore for the exit, heading down into the school.

000

Harry and Quirrell had come to grips. Quirrell's gloved hands were gripping Harry by his forearms, immobilizing his arms, and Quirrell was leaning close, his garlic-laden breath in Harry's face.

"So _that's_ it!" Harry wheezed.

"What do you mean, you little wretch?" hissed Quirrell.

"We always thought you wore garlic in your turban to keep away vampires, but you just like the stuff!"

The sheer unexpectedness of that statement rocked Quirrell back for a second, and that was all Harry needed. His left foot came lashing up, just as Revy Two-Hands and Sister Eda had shown him once, connecting with Quirrell right where it would do the most good. Quirrell's eyes bugged out and he gave a shrill, satisfying scream. More importantly, his grip on Harry's arms slackened, letting Harry free his arms, and Harry delivered a solid uppercut to Quirrell's chin.

He'd expected results; he'd connected very solidly. However, what he got was more than he could have dared to dream for. Quirrell released him completely, falling back, shrieking. "It burns! It burns! Master, it burns!"

"Let me take over, fool!" That was Voldemort's high-pitched voice, and Quirrell thrashed as he instinctively fought the feeling of having his arms and legs under another's control.

Harry had never expected that sort of reaction to his touch, but he'd been trained for years to react quickly and take advantage of any unexpected event. Instinctively, he gathered himself, leaping on Quirrell and grappling, making sure to maintain maximum skin contact.

000

Dumbledore paused in the room on the third-floor corridor, marveling. "And here I thought nobody could get past Fluffy!" he murmured. He leaned down, looking at the music box, which was still playing _Music Box Dancer_. "I must say, this is a pretty tune. I wonder if whoever owns this would loan it to me long enough for me to learn it? It'd sound very well arranged for chamber music…"

Just then, a broom rocketed out of the trapdoor, startling both wizards. To their astonishment, it was piloted by Dudley Dursley, with an unconscious Ronald Weasley on board behind him, held in place with magical bindings. "Oh! Hullo, professors! Ron's hurt and I'm taking him to Madam Pomfrey!"

"Not so fast, Mr. Dursley!" Instinctively, Snape whirled, casting a spell to shut the door. "I want some explanations! And don't you know that riding brooms in the corridors is _strictly forbidden_?"

Dumbledore's wand was out, and he cast a spell. "Madam Pomfrey's been alerted, and she'll be here directly. While we wait…" Suddenly he wasn't a kindly old crackpot any more. Suddenly, he was a powerful wizard, and Dudley, no coward, quailed. "Perhaps you can _explain_ just what's going on, in _full_ detail?"

000

Down far below, the fight raged on. Quirrell screamed and writhed, by now just trying to get away, but Harry hung on to him like grim Death. "You killed _my mother_, did you? You killed _my father_? _Burn_!" he screamed. "Burn _burn __**burn**_!"

Quirrell suddenly slumped, the life seeming to flee him, as a mist coalesced out of his head. Harry let go, scrambling back and fumbling for his wand, panting, as the mist seemed to try to solidify. A pair of red eyes appeared in it, glaring at Harry as he bounced to his feet, pointing his wand.

"Very well, you little scum," hissed the mist. "I was able to possess this fool when I met him in Albania, where I was hiding out. I have learned much about possessing human beings, and being the master of the Boy Who Lived will be a fitting revenge!" The mist came forward, toward Harry, seeming to reach for him with insubstantial arms.

Harry ducked and rolled, but no spell he cast could seem to affect his ghostly enemy. Inwardly, he cursed Quirrell for being a bad teacher; he was sure that if Quirrell had been the real deal, he'd have at least some idea of how to deal with this menace.

000

Dumbledore and Snape were rushing to the rescue, using Dumbledore's hidden shortcuts past the various puzzles that had been set up to circumvent anybody getting at the treasure hidden in the school. Finally, they made it past the fire, into the room where the Mirror of Erised stood, to stare in horror at what awaited them. Harry Potter was blazing away with every spell in the first years' repertoire, and a few that Snape privately thought he must have learned from the older Slytherins, as a menacing, ghostly figure leaned over him, unimpressed by anything Harry could do. Harry screamed something that sounded very uncomplimentary in Russian, and the ghost replied in the same language, before sensing the professors' arrival and turning to face them.

"Tom Riddle! Begone from this school!" Dumbledore cast a powerful Banishing Hex, and the ghost, or whatever it was, of Tom Riddle recoiled, to fly up and out of one of the high windows. Both teachers rushed to their pupil.

"He doesn't seem to be hurt…" Snape ventured.

"No, sir. I was hurt worse than that sparring with Dudley," Harry answered. "But, sirs, that was Lord Voldemort! He was after whatever was in that mirror, and he possessed Professor Quirrell! Shouldn't you see to him?"

Reminded of their colleague's existence, Dumbledore and Snape both rushed to his side, kneeling and casting diagnostic spells. "He's alive!" Snape announced.

"But in a bad way!" Dumbledore cast a spell. "Madam Pomfrey won't be able to get here! We'll have to get him out of here ourselves!" They conjured a stretcher, lifting Quirrell onto it gently and raising it into the air. As they turned to rush Quirrell out to the hospital wing, Snape turned to Harry, who was trying unsuccessfully to be inconspicuous, and snapped: "You come along too, Mr. Potter. I want to know just what's been going on tonight!"

000

Madam Pomfrey was a very self-possessed woman. She'd been a Healer for years before winning the coveted position as school matron at Hogwarts. She'd seen all sorts of accidents and mishaps, from Polyjuice experiments gone severely wrong to splinching, and she was not one to startle easily. Even so, she had a moment's shock when, after tucking Mr. Ronald Weasley up in bed and making sure he wouldn't wake for a while, she was confronted by her employer and her main potions supplier, with a stretcher on which rested another teacher.

She cast her specialized diagnostic spells, finding that Quirrell was severely burned, anemic, and showing the effects of long-term malnutrition, dehydration and shock. She shook her head. "It's St. Mungo's for him, sir. My facilities here are not up to dealing with this. They've specialists on tap there who can deal with this. I'd say he was possessed." She gave Dumbledore a shrewd look. "Was he?"

"It appears so, Madam Pomfrey. The possessing spirit is gone now, and we have our Mr. Potter to thank. Please stabilise Professor Quirrell, and then look these children over." Dumbledore indicated Miss Hermione Granger, Mr. Harry Pottter and Mr. Dudley Dursley, who were sitting side-by-side on a bench in the waiting room, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

Once they'd been checked out and pronounced viable, Dumbledore and Snape sat down in front of the three Slytherins. Snape, as their Head of House, fixed them with a gimlet eye. "I trust that the explanation I am about to receive for this night's events is particularly memorable?"

"Oh, it is, sir," Harry answered. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a red stone. "Here's that thing that you were looking for, sir. We figured out how to get at it and thought it would make a nice surprise for you, sir." Snape accepted the stone, an unreadable expression on his face.

"But how-?"

"The dog was easy, once we knew what we were dealing with, sir," Hermione took up the tale. "Ron, bless him, had a music box at his house that would play for a long time, and we set it up and started playing it. Sent him right off."

"Then we ran into some Devil's Snare," Dudley continued. "Luckily, I'd brought along some Muggle flares. Those things burn bright and hot, and the Snare backed right on off."

"The room with the keys was a bit difficult, but we were able to figure out which one was the right one," Harry said. "Ron caught the right flying key. And then we found ourselves playing chess, as chess pieces. Luckily, Ron's a crackerjack player. I'd love to see how he did in regular tournament play."

"Perhaps the opportunity can be arranged," Snape murmured thoughtfully. "Or we could have a tournament here at Hogwarts? Many of the staff play, and I'm sure we have other students who would like such an activity."

Harry took up his tale again: "Once through there, Hermione…she's brilliant, she really is…was able to suss out a way to deal with the troll. If it can't reach you, it can't hurt you, so we just slicked up the floor where it was so it couldn't get on its feet, and surrounded it with illusions to keep it occupied while we went on past."

"And the potions weren't that hard to figure out," Hermione said, with a proud smile. "Except that _someone _here _hogged all the potion_ so he could go on ahead alone. Someone I thought was my friend!" She gave Harry an angry glare, and he quailed.

"I looked in the mirror, and then the stone was in my pocket," Harry explained, "and then the next thing I knew, I had Quirrell covering me. And who knew but that his turban was covering another face?" He went on to describe the fight, and by the time he was done, everybody was very quiet.

"Well," Dumbledore finally said, "I think it's time you were all off in bed. I shall write you out a hall pass so that you don't get into trouble; it's far past your usual bedtimes. Professor Snape and I shall remain here and discuss this." Relieved that they didn't seem to be in worse trouble, Harry, Dudley and Hermione hurried off to the Slytherin dormitories and their own comfortable beds.

Once they were alone, Snape and Dumbledore looked at each other.

"Traps that were thought out to stop the most cunning wizards," Snape finally drawled. "Puzzles that we thought nobody without the crib could solve. The perfect trap for the Dark Lord…and a bunch of first-years breezed right on through!"

Dumbledore had the grace to blush.

_Russian to English translations:_

_*Bastards!_

_** On your knees, bitch! _

_*** Adolescent punk!_

_**** Rape your mother!_


	17. Actions Have Consequences

Harry and the Pirates

by Technomad

Actions Have Consequences

As it happened, Ron's injuries were nothing Madame Pomfrey couldn't handle easily, and he was out of the hospital wing the next day. As he got ready to head back to the Slytherin dorms, he looked up to see Professor Snape entering the room, with Harry Potter, Hermione Granger and Dudley Dursley in tow. He gulped; this did not look good.

All four Slytherins were soon sitting side-by-side on a long sofa, with Hermione between Harry and Ron. Ron could feel that she was shivering, so he put his arm around her shoulders to reassure her, and she gave him a brief smile. Harry took her hand, and she gave him a smile, too.

"Do you children know what you have done?" Snape asked, his face unreadable.

"Er…we got you that thing you were looking for?" ventured Ron.

"What you _did_, Mr. Weasley, was to easily defeat precautions that were intended to keep full-grown wizards and witches at bay. I can't begin to tell you how pleased I am with you!" Ron relaxed; maybe they weren't in trouble after all? "You four are the toast of the Slytherin common room!"

Professor Dumbledore entered the room and gave the four Slytherins a smile. "I should also tell you that you saved Professor Quirrell's life. The entity possessing him was draining his vitality, and he would have been dead in short order had you not managed to drive it away, Mr. Potter. But I'll let his mother do the talking." He gestured, and a faded-looking older witch entered, her eyes glistening with tears.

Madame Quirrell grabbed Harry's hand and kissed it, making him blush bright red. "You saved my son! You saved my boy! Oh, _bless_ you!" she sobbed.

"All part of the service, ma'am. No tip necessary." Harry turned to see Dudley giving him a look; his cousin recognized that line! They exchanged winks.

"Sir," asked Hermione, "what was the entity possessing Professor Quirrell, anyway?"

Her big dark eyes widened in fear at the answer. "That was Lord Voldemort, Miss Granger. After his unfortunate mishap at the hands of Our Mister Potter, here, he became a disembodied spirit, and he now seeks a body of some sort to return to power with."

"And he possessed Professor Quirrell?"

"Yes, Mr. Dursley, he apparently did so while poor Professor Quirrell was traveling in Albania before returning to England for this school year. I have been trying to determine just how he managed to survive in Albania, with no luck so far. I do not think he'll be back here any time soon."

"So we're not in trouble?" Hermione looked hopeful.

"In trouble? Dear me, no! In fact, you've each won fifty points for Slytherin, which should put you in the lead for the House Cup this year." The four friends grinned at each other. Slytherin had generally not done well in the competition for the Cup since the fall of the Dark Lord, since many people blamed all Snakes for the actions of some of them. Their abysmal showing in Quidditch and the shenanigans some of them insisted on getting up to didn't help, either.

"However, we do wish you to keep quiet about this. Now, off to your dorms with you. Exams are coming up, and you need to get back to your studying." Hermione let out a squeak at the thought of exams, and all four Slytherins beat a hasty retreat.

The next day, they found out that the word had somehow or other got all around the school. They suspected Draco Malfoy; the blond pest had never understood the concept of discretion, and everything that was in his normally-empty head came spewing out his mouth.

"Did you really take down another troll? How?" That was Cormac McLaggen, a particularly-arrogant Gryffindor second-year. Before that, he had treated all Slytherins as though they were something sticky and smelly he'd stepped in on the street. Now, he was all but fawning over the quartet.

Hermione grinned rather nastily. "Like so!" She waved her wand, and Cormac howled in surprise as his feet slipped out from under him. As he struggled to rise, he found himself assailed by phantom enemies, and he flailed and thrashed, while Harry, Dudley and Ron all laughed. Hermione, more ladylike, contented herself with a proud smile.

"Miss Granger, I would appreciate it if you let Mr. McLaggen up. I am sure he now understands how you were able to overcome a full-grown troll." The voice came from behind them, and they jumped. Hermione waved her wand, and McLaggen got to his feet, his face red with anger. As he turned to stomp off, the four friends turned to find themselves facing Professor Snape. "It is not always well to show off _all_ of one's capabilities, Miss Granger. While we teachers are gratified by your intelligence and grasp of the material, there are times when we would also like to hear from some of your classmates, who seem to think they have taken vows at the Monastery of Eternal Silence. This is no reflection on you; any teacher prays to have a student of your calibre at least once in his or her career."

"Oh!" Harry could see the penny dropping in Hermione's mind. "Thank you, sir. I'll keep that thought in mind."

After that, tests were coming up, and all four friends bent to their books. Hermione willingly helped Ron, Harry and Dudley with their revising, and when the tests actually came, none of them had any particular problem.

In the absence of Professor Quirrell, who was in the Intensive Care section of St. Mungo's, the Defence post was taken over by a rotating panel of teachers; Professor Grubbly-Plank was the main substitute, but all of the teachers contributed according to their areas of expertise. Flitwick went over offensive and defensive charms. McGonagall explained how transfiguration could be used against Dark Arts, and how a Dark Wizard might use it for his own purposes. Sprout explained offensive and defensive uses for magical plants. Hagrid spoke at length about magical creatures and defenses against them, and Snape contributed information on Potions' place in a defensive arsenal.

The change was met with great general approval. "We're learning more in a few weeks than we would have in years under Quirrell!" Harry heard one of the Ravenclaws exulting to his girlfriend.

When the tests came, the four friends found them no particular challenge. Slytherin House had long kept track of what was likely to show up on tests, and the upper-level Snakes made very sure that their younger Housemates were up on the things that were likely to be asked on the tests. Before the tests, the whole House went through intensive drills, including simulated exams proctored by the seventh-years, just so that nobody'd be unprepared when the big days came.

A few days after the tests, the results came back. Hermione ripped hers open, and let out a squeal of joy. "I passed! I passed everything! Oh, I'm so happy!" Her smile seemed to light up the whole room.

Harry, Ron and Dudley were just as happy.

Dudley gloated: "Mum will be so pleased with me!"

Ron smiled, and said: "My mum won't know what to think. On the one hand, these grades will have to please her, but on the other hand, she still wishes that I'd been in Gryffindor. I'm the first Slytherin in our family since we can remember, and she's always thought this House was a nest of dark wizards." A scowl flitted across his face. "Dad told me she threw an epic fit when she found out about my Sorting."

Harry wasn't opening his grades, at least not right then. Instead, he was scanning a letter that an owl had dropped by his plate that morning. He gasped, and the other three looked at him. "Look, Dudley! It's from Balalaika!" In the sudden silence, he read aloud:

_Dear Harry and Dudley:_

_I have received a letter from your Professor Dumbledore, praising you very highly. Apparently, not only are you doing quite well in your schoolwork, but your initiative and courage saved one of your teachers from what he calls "a fate worse than death." What that means, I do not know, but I wish you to know that I am very proud of both of you. You are credits to Hotel Moscow. _

_Even though Petunia and I are very pleased with your progress with your school work, Roanapur without you is somehow not the same. We look forward to seeing you again over the summer holidays, and I am sure that I can find work for you to do. Many things have happened here since you were here last, but I am sure that you will adapt quickly. _

_I also look forward to welcoming the good Miss Granger over the summer. Seeing how she and Roanapur react to each other will be very interesting. _

_All of us here are eager to see you again. _

_Balalaika__._

Harry was swept by a sudden wave of homesickness. He suddenly remembered Roanapur, with its narrow, crowded streets, its thousand-and-one exotic smells, its tropic warmth, incredibly intensely, and while he loved Hogwarts and had also found that he loved the land of his birth, Britain was no longer his home. It was just a little while, but he'd be back in Thailand, and he looked forward to that day as much as Balalaika did.

Dudley was also looking homesick. "It'll be great to see Mum again," he muttered.

On the day that they left Hogwarts, Harry and Dudley both felt very sad. "It's just for the summer," Harry told his cousin. "We'll be back here before we realize it!" Then he grinned. "And just wait till we see your Mum, and everybody else we know in Roanapur!"

Ron looked wistful. "I wish I was going to Roanapur, too," he muttered. "We don't really have the money for a lot of traveling."

Dudley and Harry looked at each other. "Let's think about this, Harry," said Dudley. "Hermione's coming to Roanapur, and it'd be great to show Ron the town, too."

"But would Mrs. Weasley like that idea?" Harry was doubtful. "She's a proper sort, and Roanapur…isn't too proper, I'm afraid." He winked at his cousin. "We can put our heads together, and maybe we can figure something out. He's right; it would be a lot of fun to show him Roanapur, and I'd really like to see him over the summer."

"We can always ask Balalaika and see what she thinks." That settled it. To both boys, Balalaika was the arbiter of all things, and if she said that ways existed to bring Ron Weasley to Roanapur, then he'd be brought. The train lurched into motion, and the four friends settled in for the long trip south.

END Chapter 17.


	18. The Proper Young Lady and the Nuns

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 18

The Proper Young Lady and the Nuns

by Technomad

Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley sat on the sofa at the Rip-off Church, sipping contentedly at cups of excellent, high-quality tea. Between them, Hermione Granger sat, looking as at home as if she had spent her whole life in Roanapur.

Hermione had been brought back to Roanapur from Bangkok by Petunia Dursley, who was obviously delighted to have a girl to talk to. At first, Harry and Dudley had not been too sure about the whole idea of Hermione coming to Roanapur, but to their surprise, their law-respecting friend had taken to the outlaw town like a duck to a downpour. When they had expressed surprise, she had quirked a thick dark eyebrow and said "At Hogwarts, I was terrified that they'd find some excuse to throw me out of school for being Muggle-born. Here, I have no reason to fear that." Then she had grinned wickedly. "And besides, this whole place is _fun_! I'm _never_ going to tell my mother about most of the stuff I've been up to here!"

Balalaika had greeted Hermione warmly, telling her that she could help Harry and Dudley out on their usual errand-running chores. "It is one of the best ways to see Roanapur," the Russian woman had explained, "and nobody _sane_ will bother you if you're known to be in my employ. I shall, of course, arrange a suitable salary for you on the same basis as the boys. There is no reason for you to work for me for free."

Harry and Dudley both carried their wands in wrist-holsters, where they could reach them instantly if needed. They had taken Hermione to the main market first thing, and introduced her to the finest leather-worker in Roanapur. He had been delighted to make her a similar sheath when they came to certain financial arrangements. She admired the man's work, particularly the finely-tooled Slytherin serpent he had worked into the leather at Dudley's suggestion, and gave him a tip on top of the fee they had negotiated that made him smile hugely.

"Good move, that," Dudley commented. "Making sure that the people who work for you are happy that they're working for you is one way to cement their loyalty. That's how Balalaika taught us to operate. When we hire people, we make sure to pay them in full, and then give them bonuses for good work. That way they're glad to work for us again if we need them."

"Some idiots think it's _funny_ to stiff working people," Harry said darkly. "Imagine their surprise in the hour of their need, when the people they depend on desert them!"

Sister Yolanda smiled, recalling Harry to the present moment. "Again, Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley, I must extend my sincere apologies for the ammunition we supplied you with when you first went to Britain. It turns out that much of it was salvaged from a wrecked ship, and we weren't informed about its status as salvage. We've gone through our stores, and that sort of mistake will never happen again. We gave Miss Balalaika a very good rate on the next few consignments she bought from us."

_I should __hope__ you would_, thought Harry, keeping a smile from his face with effort. Petunia had told him about that interview, with Balalaika, polite and controlled as always, making it very clear to Sister Yolanda that she was highly displeased with her and the Rip-Off Church. "I have certain _standards_ that I expect from those with whom I do business," Balalaika had purred, while Sister Yolanda's face went the color of old cottage cheese, "and I find it disquieting that someone with whom I had had such profitable dealings in the past should choose to grab a quick profit by trying to sell _me_ shoddy goods!" Petunia had said that she had half expected Sister Yolanda to faint dead away when she found just why Balalaika wanted to see her so urgently. The nun had apologized, repeatedly, and promised to make it good.

Sister Yolanda looked over the list of goods Harry had handed her, her single eye scanning it rapidly. "Yes, my dear boy, we have all these things in stock. And for Miss Balalaika, we'll make a special price. We do like to stay on the best possible terms with Hotel Moscow."

Just then, the younger of the two nuns who worked at the Rip-Off Church, Sister Eda, came in. Behind her came Revy Two-Hands, and an Asian man that Harry didn't recognize. "Oh! Sister Yolanda! I didn't realize you were busy! We can wait!" Like most everybody in Roanapur, Sister Eda knew that Harry and Dudley worked for Hotel Moscow, and that Balalaika took a dim view of threats or insults to them. Then she saw Hermione, and her eyes went wide behind her pink sunglasses. "Who's the new girl?"

"Sister Eda, I'd like you to meet Miss Hermione Granger, from Britain. She's one of Harry and Dudley's friends from that school they attend, and she's visiting them while her parents attend a dental conference in Bangkok. Miss Granger, this is Sister Eda." Sister Yolanda explained.

"Pleased to meetcha, Hermione," Sister Eda drawled. Then she jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "This is Rebecca Lee, but everybody calls her Revy Two-Hands. And the guy standing behind her in the white shirt is the newest member of the Lagoon Company, Rock. He's from Japan, originally." Sister Eda leaned closer and winked at Hermione. "So…decided which of those two hot young men you like better, yet?"

Hermione grinned. "Maybe I'll keep them both. They've both got good points." She smirked to see Harry and Dudley both blushing. "Aren't they _cute_ when they're embarrassed?"

Revy cleared her throat. "Listen, I've got better things to do than to watch some kids play footsie games. I want to know where that consignment is that we agreed on?"

Hermione, Harry and Dudley all gave Revy frosty looks. Unobtrusively, they all moved so that they could draw their wands instantly should they need to. The boys had told Hermione enough about Roanapur that she knew how dangerous and volatile Revy Two-Hands could be.

"Oh, Rebecca! Boys, will you excuse us? Rebecca, most of what you wanted is out in the third godown. However, there was a slight problem with the rocket launchers…"

"Are you trying to cheat us?" Suddenly, Revy's hand snaked to her holster, and she was pulling her right-hand Beretta. Just as quickly, Sister Eda produced a Glock, and both women were covering each other.

Paying no mind to the byplay, Rock sat down on the sofa, accepting a cup of tea. He sipped, and his eyes went wide. "This is wonderful! I haven't had a decent cup of tea that's not from a teabag in ages! Williamson Major, or Fortnum and Mason's?"

"Fortnum and Mason's, dear boy. You seem to know a thing or two about a good Ceylon brew."

"I'm surprised that a lady who serves such good tea would fail to come through on a contract." Discreetly, Harry nudged Hermione and Dudley. The Japanese man was smooth as silk, and obviously not intimidated at all by the potential for gunplay. _Apparently the stories I was told about how he came to join the _Black Lagoon_ had some basis in reality!_ He made mental notes, to repeat later to Balalaika. The leader of Hotel Moscow was always eager for any scraps of information he and Dudley came across in the course of their duties, and Harry, in particular, looked enough like a typical street brat that people often paid him no attention.

After some back-and-forth, Sister Yolanda and Rock came to an agreement involving the Church coming through with everything they had promised the Lagoon Company, and Sister Eda and Revy holstered their guns, giving each other dirty looks. "Later, slut," Sister Eda sneered.

"Any time, bitch," Revy replied, before she and Rock turned to leave.

"Are those two enemies?" Hermione asked Dudley quietly. Unfortunately, Sister Eda had very sharp hearing.

"Not that it's any of your business, but we're actually pretty good friends. It's just that this time, we were on different sides, and we needed to figure out who was alpha-bitch. And who the hell are you to ask such questions, English girl?" Sister Eda leaned closer, her hand creeping closer to the butt of her Glock. "Don't you realize that Roanapur's a _dangerous_ place to be too curious in?"

Harry was worried for his friend, but Hermione had seen some scary things already at Hogwarts, and wasn't one to back down from a threat. Her wand was in her hand, her eyes narrowed, and she snarled "_Petrificus Totalus_!" Eda froze in place, surprise clear in her eyes, as Hermione leaned on in and whispered, in an obscene parody of friendly confidences between close girlfriends, "I'm the person who just _paralyzed _you, Sister! If I wanted to, I could cut your throat right here and right now, and there'd not be a thing you could do to stop me, now _could you_?" In her other hand, she suddenly produced a butterfly knife, flicking it open with the ease of hours of practice.

"Miss Granger?" Sister Yolanda's voice was gentle, but there was a ring of authority to it. "Please release Sister Eda. Your point has been made."

"_Finite Incantatem_," Hermione whispered, and Eda collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She stared at Hermione as though the English girl had just grown two extra heads. Hermione made her knife disappear, and sheathed her wand as calmly as though she were at tea in a London hotel.

"Come on, Hermione, Balalaika's probably wondering where we are," Harry said, getting up and gesturing Dudley to his feet. As they left, Harry said: "We learned a great deal at the school we went to. Lots and lots. Any of us could do _all sorts of things_ to someone we thought was being threatening. There's reasons why we weren't worried about letting her visit us here."

"Sister Eda," said Sister Yolanda gently, "I hope you've learned a very valuable lesson about not judging on initial appearances. Maybe some penance would do you good. Do please give our best regards to Miss Balalaika, Harry, Dudley. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. I hope to make your further acquaintance at length." The trio left the church, and Harry felt much better out in the open, smoky air of Roanapur. For some reason, the Rip-Off Church made him very uneasy.

END


	19. A Relaxing Day at the Yellowflag

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 19

A Relaxing Day at the Yellowflag

by Technomad

(Author's note: I'm playing with the chronology of Black Lagoon to some extent. Specifically, "Die Ruckkehr des Adlers" and "Calm Down, Two Men" come before, not after "Rasta Blasta." It just seems to make more sense, and works better with the story I'm trying to tell…which is, after all, an alternate universe.)

A couple of days later, Harry, Dudley and Hermione were relaxing at the Yellowflag. Balalaika had sent them there, to wait for some men who had some things she needed. They had written instructions from Balalaika that they were to pass on, as well. Not everybody could openly be in contact with Hotel Moscow. Harry and Dudley could make contact safely, and Hermione provided extra cover for them, since only Hotel Moscow insiders knew she was on their payroll during her time in Roanapur.

Bao was quite used to having them in the Yellowflag, and, as Petunia liked to observe, "there are no drinking laws in Roanapur, only sober ones." Nonetheless, they weren't drinking anything alcoholic. Balalaika had made it clear that they weren't to do any such thing until they were older, and better able to handle the stuff. "I saw enough prepubescent alcoholics in Russia," she had said, her blue eyes cold as ice at the memory, "and I don't want to see any more!" Neither Harry nor Dudley was fool enough to challenge her at any time, much less when she was that deadly serious. Hermione had merely nodded when Balalaika laid down that law to her; she commented privately to Harry and Dudley that it had never occurred to her to even try anything alcoholic.

The music wasn't too loud, for a change, and they were talking about local news. Revy Two-Hands and the Japanese who had joined the Lagoon Company, Rock, had apparently gotten into a huge argument down in one of the markets.

"Rock's lucky to be alive," Harry opined, taking a long swig of his Coke. "There's few, if any, who've survived one of Revy's furies, particularly when she's got her pistols out. That woman normally doesn't miss."

"I've heard that he figured out how to torpedo an attack helicopter in mid-air when he first joined the Lagoon," Dudley said. His Coke was empty, and he went on up to the bar to re-fill it. Bao nodded when he saw Dudley, and pulled out a frosty cold bottle of Coke. Dudley marked the tally that Bao kept, so that Balalaika could reimburse him for what her men drank, and brought his bottle back to the table.

"Now, that's one that I have a hard time believing," Hermione said skeptically, sipping at her own Coke in a ladylike manner. The Roanapur summer heat bothered her more than her two friends, since she was not raised to it the way they were, but she never complained out loud. Balalaika had noticed, though. Little ever got past the Russian woman. She had discreetly passed Hermione some bottles of high-powered sunscreen to keep her from being sunburnt, as well as reminding her to keep herself well-hydrated and not over-exert herself until she was more acclimated.

"Well, speak of the devil," said Harry, giving his friends a Slytherin hand signal for caution. "Here's the man himself, and all his friends. If you're curious, Hermione, why don't you ask him how he did it?" Hermione gave Harry a dirty look, as the crew of the Black Lagoon entered the Yellowflag. Dutch, as usual, was in the lead, scanning the tavern interior for potential threats, with Revy Two-Hands just behind him. Then Rock, and Benny…and a surprising addition in the form of a blond boy a few years younger than Harry himself.

Harry instantly went on the alert, signalling his friends to do likewise. Anything unusual, in Roanapur, was sufficient cause for caution. In addition, Revy did not seem to be in a good mood; in other words, she was her usual self. She and the rest of the Lagoon crew claimed an empty table and sat down, with the blond boy sitting with them.

Revy was complaining, loudly: "I didn't sign up to be a babysitter!" Rock was trying to calm her down, as Dutch looked over and saw Dudley and Harry.

The Black Lagoon's captain smiled. "Hey, Dudley! Harry! Good to see you again! How was England?" Then he noticed Hermione. "And who's your friend?"

Revy peered over and her eyes widened. "More kids? What is this, Kids Day? Has Roanapur turned into Disneyland?"

Harry answered: "No, Revy, we're just home for the summer hols. And we've got our friend Hermione here visiting us. You saw her over at the church." Revy snorted contemptuously, and Dudley went on: "Hermione, this is Dutch. He's the captain of the Black Lagoon PT boat. The blond guy with them is the Lagoon's electronics and communications expert, Benny. You've already met Revy, and Rock. And…who's the kid?"

"Pleased to meet you, miss," Dutch rumbled. "This is Garcia Lovelace. We're sort of holding on to him for now. We've been contracted to transport him, but we've got some questions. I'm waiting on your boss-lady to call me back." Just then, his cell rang. "Excuse me," he said, going outside to answer it so that he could talk without the music from the Yellowflag's jukebox drowning his voice.

Garcia and Revy were exchanging dirty looks, while Rock was trying to keep the peace and Benny was conspicuously not participating. Revy snarled: "You aren't paying me enough to be a babysitter, but pay me more and I'll change his diapers anytime!"

Rock tried: "Revy, cool down…"

"Give me a break! You want to change jobs? Go be this brat's butler, maybe? Yeah," Revy fleered, "that might suit you better than workin' ships! 'Would master like a mint julep?' I can just see you now in your formal livery, white shirt and all!" She tossed back her drink. "Must be nice, livin' large, servants around to wipe your ass and wait on you hand and foot…"

"Actually, we only have one servant and she's a maid," Garcia said, clearly not particularly intimidated by Revy. "She's not good at cooking or cleaning, though." He pointed straight at Revy. "But she could kick your ass good!"

Revy's eyes went wide, and she was convulsed with laughter. "Oh, really? What would she do? Throw tea sets at me?" She all but fell off her chair, she was laughing so hard.

Just then, Harry noticed something. Standing at the bar, oblivious to the stares she was getting, was a strange woman in glasses and a traditional maid's uniform. She had just casually crushed one of Bao's heavy glass steins in her hand. Dudley was watching too, and both boys' eyes went wide. Those things were designed to be very hard to break; the Yellowflag got rough on a regular basis, and Bao had got tired of replacing his glassware after every minor disagreement.

Harry touched Hermione's hand, and nodded to the bar. Hermione's eyes widened in their turn when she saw what Harry had seen. Some of the other patrons, who looked, to Harry, like they were part of the Latin American contingent in Roanapur, had noticed, too, and were speaking to the maid in what sounded like Spanish.

The maid responded, her tone contemptous and dismissive, and Harry, Dudley and Hermione made ready to leave as Harry gave the Slytherin hand signal for "Danger ahead!" There was clearly a brawl brewing, but, unfortunately, the friends were sitting in the back of the room, and the path to the exit was occupied by some of the South Americans.

The Latins were clearly quite amused by whatever the maid had said, howling contemptuous laughter. She didn't so much as crack a smile, instead bringing up an umbrella. The blood chilled in Harry's veins when he realized that the umbrella was actually a shotgun!

The South Americans shouted in dismay, pulling guns of their own, and gunfire erupted as Harry, Hermione and Dudley got behind one of the heavy, bulletproof tables Bao preferred, pulling it down to shield them. Dudley muttered: "If that's Garcia's maid, he wasn't just bragging! That woman's facing off with a bunch of Cartel gunmen and holding them off!"

Sure enough, she was. She was keeping up a very fast rate of fire, her umbrella, which seemed to be made of Kevlar, open and shielding her, while dodging and ducking fast enough for the other side's bullets to miss her. She, however, wasn't missing. Harry noticed that even in the hottest fighting, the maid's face was calm and serene, as though she were doing nothing more dangerous than polishing silverware.

Taking advantage of a quick lull, Harry, Dudley and Hermione sprinted for the door. They found themselves running along with the Black Lagoon crew…and, to their surprise, Garcia Lovelace. Garcia was clinging to Rock's arm, tears running down his face, but when he saw people near his own age, he let go of Rock and ran to Harry as though Harry were his big brother.

"I don't understand it! I knew Roberta was tough, but I never expected her to behave that way!" When they all got safely across the street, they ended up standing near a ratty car that Harry recognized as the one the Lagoon crew used to get around in on land. Dudley tapped his shoulder and pointed, and Harry saw the Hotel Moscow man they had been expecting to meet.

"Menshikov! Call Balalaika! There's bad trouble at the Yellowflag!" Harry screamed, in fluent Russian. Balalaika's orders were that they use that language when talking about Hotel Moscow business, since nobody in Roanapur spoke it but her own employees, to her best knowledge.

Menshikov nodded, pulling out a cell phone and barking into it in Russian. When he shut the phone, he shouted: "I see you have Gospodin Lovelace with you! Stay with him! Hotel Moscow's on the way!"

Harry and Dudley looked at each other, and both shrugged. Just then, the entire Yellowflag exploded, and everybody cringed from the shock wave. Hermione pointed, screaming "Look! Look!" Harry looked…and felt his blood running cold with terror. Walking calmly out of the flames, apparently unscathed, was the maid who had started all the commotion.

"That's not a maid…" Harry intoned, misquoting a movie he and Dudley had both loved.

"That's the Terminator!" Hermione and Dudley chorussed.

Dutch yanked open the car doors. "Get in! All of you! You too, Harry, Dudley, and your friend! We're getting out of here while the getting's good!" Dutch's advice struck Harry as the wisest thing he'd heard in months, and he and his friends piled in, with Benny, Garcia and an unconscious Revy, who'd been wounded in the shoulder somehow, stuffed into the back seat. Rock and Dutch were in the front, with Dutch at the wheel.

Dutch's car peeled out with a screech of rubber, and Harry looked behind, horrified, to see the maid jumping into a nearby car and coming right after them. "Dutch! Give me your cell! I've got to tell Balalaika where we're going!" Dutch tossed Harry his cell phone, and Harry began punching buttons frantically, staring behind them at the maid's car, which was gaining steadily.

END


	20. Roanapur Pursuit

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 20

Roanapur Pursuit

by Technomad

Harry stabbed at the buttons on Dutch's cell phone as the car roared through the Roanapur streets. When he got a familiar ring, he held the phone close to his ear, muttering "Come on, _come on_…answer, _please!_"

Petunia Dursley's voice came over the air. "Bougainvillea Traders. May I ask who's calling, please?"

"Aunt Petunia! It's me, Harry! Get us Balalaika, _right now_! We're being chased! It's an _emergency!_" Harry heard his aunt gasp in horror; she had never heard him speak in that tone, and that alone told her that he wasn't joking. And even if he'd been playing a prank, he'd never, ever have dared involve Balalaika in it. He heard the click as his aunt transferred the call.

"This is Balalaika. What's wrong, Harry?"

Hearing Balalaika's warm, calm contralto, Harry felt himself relaxing. "Thank God! Dudley, Hermione and I are with the Lagoon Company, in a car headed toward the harbor on Chulalungkorn Street…no, now we're turning down Prachit Road!" The car roared into a turn, tires squealing as they fought for purchase, as people scattered to get out of the way. In Roanapur, wise people did not interfere in car chases. The criminal element that controlled the city did not appreciate such interference. "We need help! The person who's chasing us is the one who singlehandedly tore up the Yellowflag and outfought a bunch of the Manisalera Cartel's men! She's right behind us and not about to give up! She seems to be after Garcia Lovelace! Garcia's here in the car with us!"

"Good boy! Stay with young Master Lovelace, and I'll be there as soon as I can!" With that, the line went dead, but Harry felt better. Balalaika was on the way!

Behind them, the maid's car stayed right on their tail, implacable and determined. Harry occasionally caught glimpses of the maid's face through the windshield, and she seemed utterly calm and detached about the whole thing. He wished he felt the same way. He longed to have Snape or Dumbledore there to help out.

Dudley and Hermione were working on Revy. The Chinese-American gunsel was out cold, pillowed in Benny's lap. "She's lost some blood, but I don't think there's any major damage, and the bullet or whatever it was isn't in the wound. However, she looks to have a concussion." Hermione felt Revy's neck. "Her pulse is strong and steady. I think she'll be all right, but I wish we had a Healer, or a Muggle MD, here to check her out."

"Keep her as still as you can," Dudley told Hermione. "I'm going to roll down the window and try to give our pursuer something else to think about!" Suiting action to words, he was soon leaning out the window of the careening car, wand in hand, firing off jinxes and hexes at their enemy.

Watching through the rear window, Harry noticed with some amusement that the maid hadn't apparently expected such an attack. The first few spells startled her, throwing her off enough that the _Lagoon_ crew's car drew ahead a ways. Quickly, though, she figured out that the spells Dudley was firing off weren't enough to damage her or her car, and she roared right on ahead, ignoring everything that Dudley could do.

OOO

Meanwhile, at the headquarters of Hotel Moscow, Balalaika's men were gearing up. Balalaika herself chose a Stechkin pistol for her personal weapon, deciding against her Dragunov sniper rifle. The rifle was her signature weapon, and the source of her nickname, but it was very conspicuous. She and Hotel Moscow were able to operate freely mainly because they were not too obvious about what was going on. That way, the "legitimate authorities" could save at least some face. Had it been after dark, she might have done differently, but it was broad daylight.

More reports came in, from various informants on the Hotel Moscow payroll. Balalaika could follow the course of the car chase well enough to figure out where it had to end up. "Forward, comrade soldiers," she said in Russian. Obediently, her men followed her, out to where their transport awaited them. For a little while, she felt like she was back in the Army. She knew these men would follow her into Hell if she asked them to.

OOO

"Dutch! The _wharves_! It's a dead end!" Benny screamed. Dutch swore and hauled on the wheel, sending the car into a screaming curve. Unfortunately, the tires hit a slick patch where some fool had spilled oil, and the car spun out of control, slamming head-on into a wall. Harry, Dudley, Hermione, Benny, Garcia, and the unconscious Revy were all thrown forward into the back of the front seat, while Dutch and Rock, in the front seats, were slammed against the steering wheel and dashboard.

"Is everybody all right?" asked Rock.

"We're all okay back here, far as I can tell. Revy's still out of it, lucky for her. This can't have done her injury any good," Harry reported. He peered outside, and felt sick. The maid's car had stopped, and she was getting out of the car. She still looked completely calm, and Harry remembered the joke about her being the Terminator. Suddenly, it didn't seem funny at all. He could really feel for Sarah Connor and the other victims of Schwarzenegger's character.

The three Slytherins piled on out of the car, wands in hand. "Try a Jelly-Legs Jinx!" Suiting action to words, Harry raised his wand and cast the spell.

To his delight, it worked; the maid suddenly staggered, unable to continue. "Good shot, Harry!" Hermione screamed in his ear, grabbing him and giving him a kiss. Dudley pounded him on the back. Then they noticed that the maid had somehow managed to throw the spell off.

"You children should get out of the way," she said, her voice as uninterested as though she were discussing the election chances in a country far, far away. "You don't want to get hurt." Suddenly a .45 Government Model automatic pistol was in her hand, leveled at the trio.

"You aren't coming any further, you crazy woman!" Harry snapped. He was furious that this weird refugee from a rich man's house would _dare_ to threaten his friends! He liked the Lagoon Company, too, even Revy. He could also see that poor Garcia was absolutely catatonic with fear, which did not argue for the maid's intentions actually being benevolent. He whipped up his wand, and Dudley and Hermione, on either side of him, did likewise. Harry muttered: "On the count of three, we _petrify her_! With three of us, we can do it, and while she's paralyzed, we can take that pistol off her!" Dutch and Benny overheard, and their eyes went wide with disbelief. They apparently hadn't noticed Dudley's attempts to slow the maid up earlier.

Just then, Revy woke up with a scream of rage. "Fuck! FUCK! This fucking hurts like hell! I'm going to kill that bitch!" She began scrambling out of the car, swearing an even bluer streak than she usually did. "Where the FUCK is she? She'd better fucking not be dead!"

"You're in luck," Dutch rumbled. "She's outside, still alive and kicking. The English kids are squaring off with her."

"_Ohhhh no they aren't! _ The bitch is _mine_! All mine! Rock, don't you dare interfere…I'm a hair under my redline as it is! You get in my way and you'll get a nine-millimeter _headache_!" Revy charged up behind the Slytherin trio, shoving Harry and Hermione aside. "Okay, bitch! You think you're so damn tough, do you? Against _kids_? Let's see how well you do against _me_, when I'm ready for you!" Harry, Dudley and Hermione all scrambled to get out of the line of fire. Dudley and Harry had lived in Roanapur more than long enough to know how dangerous gunfights could be, and they dragged Hermione behind some cover that was nearby. The _Lagoon_ crew and Garcia were also under cover, to Harry's relief.

For a few seconds, all was still. Harry could hear gulls calling mournfully over the harbor. Revy finally broke the silence. "Go ahead, _senorita_, draw. Or are you too shaky?"

The maid smiled contemptously. "Don't be ashamed…to be afraid, _chica_." With that, they both yanked their pistols free, blazing away as fast as they could pull the triggers. From what he could see, neither woman was fighting skillfully, which was unusual for Revy Two-Hands. He thought that her injury might have had something to do with that. Instead, it was spray-and-pray, or, as Sergeant Boris referred to it contemptuously, the "I-don't-_care_-what-I-hit-so-long-as-my-gun-goes-_bang_" school of gunfighting.

"Revy's well off her form," Dudley whispered. Harry nodded, not taking his eyes off the fight. Both women started running toward each other, firing wildly, until they crashed head-on into each other. They both poised their guns; at that range they couldn't possibly miss.

Just then, a familiar contralto voice called: "_Ostanovityes_!"

That distracted the combatants slightly, and they turned, along with everybody else, to see none other than Balalaika walking along, cool and calm, with her men behind her. More Hotel Moscow men were taking up positions on rooftops, covering everything with their rifles.

"What did that mean?" Hermione hissed, her big black eyes alive with curiosity.

"She basically told them to stop." Harry and Dudley shushed their friend, eager to see how Balalaika would deal with this situation. She was always worth watching in action; she did not often take a direct hand on the streets, but when she did, it was always quite decisive.

END Part 03


	21. The Maid and the Maniac

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 21

The Maid and the Maniac

by Technomad

Balalaika smiled warmly at the two women, who both gave her identical scowls. That didn't faze the Russian woman at all. She shook her head slightly, as though deploring children's foolish behavior, and said: "Come, now, there's no reason for all this. You know, you've done me a favor, _senorita_. We were already planning a war against the Manisalera Cartel; you've saved me and my men a great deal of work. The remainder of them are being neutralized even as we speak, and the abduction of young Mr. Lovelace is now a moot point. So there's no more need to fight, is there?"

From his own safe vantage point, behind the car, Dutch rumbled: "The three most dangerous women in the world are having a confrontation!"

Benny agreed. "It's like being at Ground Zero for a nuke test! I wouldn't get between them for all the gold in Fort Knox!"

Harry and Dudley had come out from cover, with Hermione behind them, and Balalaika gave them a quick smile. "Ah, my informants! I must say your presence of mind has proven very helpful! You may expect a reward in your next pay packets." Revy and the maid both scowled so hard at the English kids that they should have been flat on their backs with big smoking holes in their chests.

"I'm not done teaching this bitch a lesson," Revy snarled.

"We'll see who teaches who!" the maid responded.

"Oh, dear," Balalaika said.

As Balalaika drew a pistol of her own, Harry pointed his wand and yelled "_Petrificus Totalus!_" Both combatants were frozen in place, unable to do so much as blink. "You told them to stop, ma'am. I took the liberty of making them obey. If that's all right with you?"

Balalaika beamed. "Of course it is, Harry! You're a _good boy_!" She looked curiously at Revy and the maid, who could do no more in return than glare at her. "Can you take the spell off them?"

"_Finite Incantatem_!"

Temporarily distracted from each other, the maid and Revy stared at Harry. "Uh, Harry…what was that you just did?" asked Revy.

"A simple Petrification spell. Nothing too elaborate." Harry grinned slightly at the women's dumfounded expressions.

"Yes, Harry and his friends are magical. They're learning how to be wizards…and witches…at that school they go to in Britain," Balalaika explained. Harry and Dudley nodded, and Hermione gave the combatants a beaming smile.

_"Brujeria?"_ Garcia and the maid both stared at Harry and his friends as though they expected the three English kids to turn into bats.

"_Si_," Dudley said, grinning at their awe. "_Es verdad. Pero nada que ver con el diablo_."

Hermione said: "I didn't know you knew Spanish, Dudley!"

Dudley shrugged his shoulders. "Balalaika suggested I should pick some up. It's come in handy sometimes."

Tiring of the byplay, Revy snarled: "Well, what do you want of us, Big Sis?" It was a mark of her profound respect for Balalaika that she addressed the Russian woman so, and a mark of the respect Balalaika had for Revy's prowess with her weapons that Balalaika permitted her to do so.

Just then, Garcia Lovelace took a hand. Squirming away from where he'd been shoved by the adults, he came toward the maid, speaking softly in rapid, colloquial Spanish. Harry couldn't follow the Spanish, but he caught the name "Roberta."

Balalaika understood, though. In English, so that everybody present would understand, she said with a slight smile: "Oh? You don't like seeing her wave guns about? I wonder how 'the Bloodhound' feels about _that_ idea?"

"Don't say anything about that!" the maid…Roberta?…snarled.

Balalaika raised an eyebrow. "Your maid, Master Lovelace, was once 'Rosarita Cisneros,' the FARC's Bloodhound of Florencia. She was one of their top killers, and she's wanted nearly everywhere for treason, terrorism, kidnapping, murder, arson, robbery, and I don't know _what_-all…moving violations, as well, I shouldn't be surprised," with a smirk at the car Roberta had "acquired;" it showed signs of very recent severe hard usage.

Garcia stared at her in horror. "Roberta…is this true?"

"Yes, young master. I was once an idealist, but I finally figured out that FARC had sold itself out. I was nothing more than a glorified cartel gunwoman. I left, and took a new identity as your maid, but I'm the Bloodhound you've heard of." Tears ran down her face. "I regret what I did in those days more than I can say. I killed, I kidnapped…I did all kinds of crimes 'for the Revolution.' The Bloodhound's reputation was more than deserved, and it's something that I can never wash off." She hung her head in shame.

Garcia looked at her…and ran to her, hugging her as hard as he could and nearly knocking her off her feet. "You're _not the __Bloodhound_! You're the kind maid who raised me!" he screamed, tears running down his own face. "The Bloodhound of Florencia is someone else! She died long ago and far away! _You're Roberta_, and I love you! Don't you love me any more? Aren't we _family_? Don't family love each other?"

Roberta's eyes swam with tears, as she leaned down and gently wiped Garcia's face. "Don't cry so, young master," she said softly. "The heir to the Lovelaces should display dignity in public." They hugged each other hard, and Harry noticed Hermione's eyes getting suspiciously bright.

"Well," said Balalaika, who had been watching the byplay with great interest, "I guess that settles that, doesn't it?"

"Excuse me, Big Sis, but no it doesn't!" piped up Revy. "What about this damn hole in my shoulder? Who'll pay for that?"

"We can fix that for you, Revy," Harry offered. Revy gave him an appraising look.

"Yeah, but the memory still remains. Come on, Big Sis! You know this has to be paid for! That's how it is in our world!"

"Is that true?" Hermione whispered to Harry and Dudley. "Does she have to pay the maid back for that?"

"I guess so," Harry answered in a low tone, not wanting to attract the volatile gunwoman's attention. "Around this town, having a reputation as a weakling can be fatal, particularly in her line of work."

"That's barbaric!" Hermione gasped.

Harry and Dudley shrugged. "That's Roanapur!"

Hermione thought quickly, and went up to Balalaika. "Uh, Miss Balalaika…hasn't there been enough gunplay? Can't they settle this some other way?" An idea visibly flashed into her mind. "Like, say, just fighting each other bare-handed until they've got it out of their systems?"

Balalaika's eyes went wide, and she patted Hermione's cheek, startling Harry and Dudley; their boss was generous with verbal praise, but very seldom touched anybody. "Little Hermione, if this were the old days, I'd beg you to consider studying for the officers' corps of the Red Army! I'd have been proud to serve beside such as you! That's an excellent idea!" Hermione blushed. She'd seen enough of Balalaika to know that was very high praise indeed.

Balalaika turned to Revy and Roberta. "Well, ladies? How does that sound to you?"

Revy grinned her manic grin, flexing her fists. "Sounds like _fun_ to me!"

Roberta cracked her knuckles. "Hope you like the taste of pavement, _puta_!"

"Then we are agreed!" Balalaika beamed, as Harry, Dudley, Hermione and the _Black Lagoon_ crew sat back to watch. "Bare hands until one of you has had enough!"

"One second, please!" Hermione called out. Fearlessly, but with her wand ready in her hand, she went on up to Roberta. "_Senorita_…would you allow me to keep ahold of your glasses until this is over? You wouldn't want them broken, now would you?"

Roberta raised one eyebrow. "I do not think they are in any danger from such as her," she answered, jerking her thumb at Revy, who scowled at her, "but if it makes you feel better, _senorita bruja_, you may take charge of them." Ceremoniously, she removed her glasses and handed them to Hermione, who carefully tucked them into the breast pocket of her shirt. "Now, where were we…_oh_, yes! I was about to show this jumped-up street rat how these things are _done_!"

Revy screamed in rage and lunged at Roberta, who dodged easily and stuck out her foot, sending Revy sprawling on the pavement. Before Revy could recover, Roberta was on her, fists flying.

Harry and Dudley, and the other regular Roanapur residents, watched in a detached way. "Who do you think'll win, Harry?" asked Dudley, as casually as though they were watching a Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, back at Hogwarts.

Harry studied the fight. "I'd put my money on the maid. Revy's fighting hurt, and she's angry enough that she might make some mistakes. How does ten Galleons sound as a bet?"

"I'll cover that!" The cousins shook hands ceremoniously. Meanwhile, the _Lagoon_ crew and the Russians were also making bets. It looked like Roberta was the favorite.

The only ones who were shocked were Hermione and Rock. Hermione had suggested they fight it out bare-handed, but she had not expected anything like the savagery with which the two women went after each other. They didn't fight "like girls" but punched, kicked and pummeled each other with all the force in their bodies, rolling over and over on the pavement. She reminded herself that Harry, Dudley and Petunia had all warned her that Roanapur could be a dangerous place.

Rock was also appalled, and unlike Hermione, he tried to do something about it. Stepping forward, he took advantage of a temporary lull in the brawl to ask: "Uh, ladies, could you call this a draw? Haven't you both had enough?"

In unison, Revy and Roberta snarled: "_Fuck off_!" Defeated and deflated, Rock retreated, as Balalaika snickered at him.

Finally, both women were clearly on their last legs. They were battered, bruised and bloody. Swaying and staggering, they stood a little way apart, both of them with their fists poised.

"Why…don't you _give on up_, already? You four-eyed bitch!" Revy gasped.

"Not…till you're _on the ground_!" Roberta was exhausted, but still defiant.

They simultaneously tried throwing haymakers, both of which connected. Both of them fell to the pavement, out cold.

Balalaika shrugged. "Very well. It's a draw. All bets are off."

Harry and Dudley jogged forward, to see to Revy, as Hermione bent over Roberta. Hermione felt a tug at her sleeve, and turned to find herself facing a very determined-looking Garcia Lovelace.

"I need my maid's glasses, _senorita_," Garcia said, his voice ringing with authority. "And _you_ may stand back. Roberta's _my_ maid, and I'll see to her needs _myself_!" Much impressed, Hermione handed Garcia the glasses and stood back, as Garcia squatted down, patting Roberta's face gently until she opened her eyes.

"Young…master?"

"Don't feel bad, Roberta! You stayed in the fight till the very end! You showed that awful woman who's boss!" Roberta tried to rise, and Garcia helped her up, her arm around his shoulders.

"Young sir?" Balalaika asked. "Would you need assistance?"

"Roberta's _my_ maid, ma'am! I'll take her home because we're _family_!"

Balalaika smiled broadly. "I see that the Lovelace family's future is in excellent hands with you, young sir. Harry? Dudley?" Harry and Dudley left off trying to revive Revy, who was out cold but good, and turned to hear what their employer wished them to do. "Please help young Master Lovelace if he needs help. Sergeant Boris will drive you to the airport and see you safely on your plane home. And if the Cartel presumes to interfere…" Balalaika's smile suddenly became very predatory…"you are to deal with them as you see fit!"

"Yes, _ma'am_!" Pointing his wand, Harry cast "_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Roberta suddenly floated into the air, light as a feather. Garcia gave Harry a grateful look; his spirit was more than willing, but Roberta was nearly a foot taller than he was and much heavier. "Come on, Dudley, Hermione! We've got work to do!" The strange little procession headed for one of the Russians' cars.

END Part 04


	22. Back to Britain

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 22

Back to Britain

"I've got to say, it's good to be home," Hermione Granger remarked. She sucked in a lungful of smoggy, damp London air with every evidence of enjoyment. "I loved Roanapur, and can easily see why you boys love it so…but at seventh and last, I'm an English girl, and I'm happiest here."

"We understand," Dudley Dursley assured her. They had just arrived back in London the night before, accompanied by the Doctors Granger, who did not know very much about Hermione's stay in Roanapur. "We felt the same way when we got back to Roanapur."

"Well, this Miss Balalaika seems to have been a wonderful influence on both you boys," Hermione's mother commented, smiling at them warmly. "And she's given our Hermione ever so much confidence about what she can do with her life! Seeing her running that business of hers, Bougainvillea Trading, so easily gave Hermione ideas about what she'll want to do once she's out of school!"

Behind Dr. Granger's back, Harry and Dudley grinned mischeviously at each other. _If her parents knew one-tenth of what she did and saw in Roanapur, they'd have heart attacks!_ Harry thought. He knew his cousin was thinking much the same thing. Before arriving in Bangkok to meet the Grangers, they and Hermione had carefully worked out just what to, and what not to, tell her parents.

Outside, a car pulled up. Hermione's father peered through the front window. "This must be the Weasleys!" In a few minutes, the door was opened and the Grangers were welcoming the Weasleys into their home.

Mr. Weasley looked around curiously. "I've seldom been in a Muggle home, except on business." At Hermione's questioning look, he elaborated: "I'm in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office at the Ministry. We investigate and confiscate Muggle objects that have been unlawfully enchanted. Like car keys that have been spelled to always vanish when the owner goes looking for them."

"Really?" Hermione's parents shared a glance; Harry couldn't tell what they were thinking. "Sounds interesting."

"I'll be happy to explain anything you want, Mr. Weasley. However, shouldn't we be getting on our way? We need our books, and there's a book signing at Flourish and Bott's I don't want to miss."

"Of course! Gilderoy Lockhart's signing copies of Magical Me, his autobiography. The store will be packed, between that and kids needing their textbooks. Please excuse us, but we've got to go!" With that, Mr. Weasley began herding the children toward the door.

"Of course! We'd come along, but we've a conference to get to; we scheduled it before we knew what else would be happening today. We'd love to accompany you, but we can't pull out; they're expecting a report on what we did in Bangkok."

Hermione hugged her parents. "It's all right, Mum, Dad. Diagon Alley's crazy this time of year anyway. Think of Christmas at Harrods. It's a madhouse. I'll take you back to Diagon Alley sometime when it's not so mad. How does that sound?" They hugged her back, and the Grangers released their daughter, who scampered down the front stairs and into the Weasleys' Ford Anglia.

Harry and Dudley had expected to be crowded, but the Anglia was bigger inside than it looked on the outside. In front, Percy Weasley was sitting between his parents, while in the back, Ron welcomed them warmly. "Harry! Dudley! Hermione! Good to see you all! I hope you had a wonderful time in Thailand!"

"Couldn't have been better, Ron! We'll tell you all about it later!" Behind the elder Weasleys' backs, Harry gave Ron a quick Slytherin hand-signal, _meaning There's a lot to tell, but not here._ Ron's eyes went wide and he nodded.

Behind Ron, Fred and George grinned, holding out their hands to shake. "You all look tanned! Thailand must agree with you!" said one of them; Harry could never really tell them apart.

"Thailand's wonderful. One of the best things about it is getting real Thai food again! The food at Hogwarts is good, but Harry and I get homesick for Thai or real Chinese food sometimes!" Dudley said. "Maybe over the hols, we can take you and Hermione somewhere to experience it yourselves!"

"He's right!" Hermione piped up. "The food there is heavenly! Mummy and Daddy both said that if they stayed there too long, they'd have to roll them onto the plane. They'd be perfect butterballs!"

From behind the twins came a giggle. Fred, or George, turned and said "Oh, this is our little sister Ginny. Come on out, Ginny!" He hauled a blushing red-headed girl out from behind him. "Geez, Gin-Gin, what's the matter with you? You normally never act this way!"

"It might be she's feeling shy at meeting Harry Potter," the other twin grinned. "She's been chattering nonstop about him all summer." At this, Ginny blushed even redder, and Hermione took pity on the younger girl.

"Come here, Ginny!" She gathered Ginny in close. "What House do you think you want?"

"I don't know," Ginny said softly. "I always thought that I'd be in Gryffindor, but Ron's letters about what you got up to in Slytherin make it sound such fun that I might want to go there."

"Well, the Hat doesn't get things wrong. You'll be in whichever House you belong in," one of the twins assured her.

"Of course, if you go to Slytherin, Mum will send you a Howler…"

"But _we_ get those so often that a week without them is like a week without sunshine!" Both twins grinned.

From the front seat, Molly put in: "And you deserve them! Honestly, I could have died of shame when I got that letter about you stealing your little brother's butterbeer! Served you right that it was booby-trapped!"

"Well, they may have outsmarted us, but they also saved our arses from that troll with those Muggle contraptions of theirs!" The twin's statement caught Arthur Weasley's attention, and for much of the rest of the trip, Harry and Dudley were explaining Muggle weaponry to a fascinated Arthur.

"I'll want you to come down the Ministry sometime and talk to some people. Very few of us have any experience of these things, and your insights will be invaluable." At that point, they'd parked and were exiting the car, heading for the Leaky Cauldron. Harry braced himself; he didn't like the Cauldron much, since people there tended to gush over him. He knew all about the "Boy Who Lived" thing, but that didn't mean he liked it. He wasn't one and a half years old any more!

The Weasleys formed up and Harry found himself in the middle of the knot as they walked through the tavern and entered Diagon Alley. Sure enough, the place was badly crowded; Harry quickly spotted a bunch of people he knew from school. Fred, George and Percy were all soon absorbed into the friendly throng.

Hermione's face fell when she saw Flourish and Bott's. "Oh, look at that crowd!" she lamented. "How will I ever get my books?"

"Why don't we hit Gringott's, and get some money changed?" Harry had found out that he had a vault at Gringott's with money his parents had left him, but when he'd mentioned possibly using that for expenses while in Britain, Aunt Petunia had firmly forbidden it.

"Young people are to be supported by their _elders_, young man!" she had said. "I assure you, your late uncle left me very well-provided-for and my salary is quite adequate. I won't hear of you accessing that money until you're legally of age! Who _knows_ what might happen if you did?"

Balalaika had agreed completely. "I am glad to see that Petunia takes her responsiblities seriously. I mean no offense, Harry; you're much more mature than many people your age. But twelve years old is too young to handle a fortune on your own. Once you are of adult years, then you may do as you please." Harry shrugged his shoulders. Between the money he'd saved from his salary and what Aunt Petunia gave him, he had more than enough to see him through the year.

Gringott's was less crowded than many places; the goblins enforced decorum on customers and workers alike. Hermione, Harry and Dudley were soon served, and shortly thereafter, they were back out in the Alley, their pockets heavy with Galleons.

"Where to, first?" asked Hermione. "Get some new robes? Mine don't fit so well any more."

The boys all looked at her. "Yeah," grinned Harry. "Getting a bit tight across the chest, we see!" Hermione scowled and gave Harry a playful slap on the back of the head.

Ron looked a little uncomfortable, and Harry noticed that he was flushing. "Er, you all go on ahead," he muttered. "I'm all right."

His three friends regarded him narrowly. Finally, after an uncomfortable few minutes, Harry nodded. "Right. We'll see you in a few." The three headed off to Madam Malkin's shop, and in answer to the questioning looks that he was getting, Harry muttered, low enough for nobody outside their tight little group to hear: "Ron's family's a bit hard up for the readies, and he's sensitive about it. I shouldn't have mentioned new robes."

"I think I know what'll be waiting for him on Christmas," Hermione muttered back. All three of them grinned conspiratorially. Harry made a mental note; he could find out Ron's measurements, and get them to Madam Malkin in plenty of time for some new robes to be made up. _And Ron can't exactly turn away a Christmas pressie, now can he?_ This way, their friend would look good, as a Slytherin should, and his pride would be spared.

The three friends returned from Malkins' place an hour later, having made arrangements for their new clothes to be sent on ahead. The Weasleys were talking with a tall wizard they'd never seen before, one with a mop of frizzy white hair and a slightly crazed look in his eyes.

"Oh! There you are!" Mrs. Weasley beckoned them over. "Xeno, we'd like you to meet some of Ron's little friends from school: Harry Potter, his cousin Dudley Dursley, and Hermione Granger. They're all in Slytherin together." Harry noticed that she didn't say "Slytherin" as though it meant something squishy she'd stepped in on the street. She's getting better, I think. "Hermione, Harry, and Dudley, this is our neighbor, Xenophilius Lovegood. He publishes the _Quibbler_ newspaper, and his daughter's a friend of our Ginny. She'll be starting Hogwarts this year, too."

"Pleased to meet you, sir," the three friends chorussed, lining up to shake Mr. Lovegood's hand.

"A pleasure to meet all of you. Ginny, here, was telling me about how you and your cousin grew up mostly in Asia, Harry. If you have the time, would you be willing to answer a few silly questions about the place? My paper specializes in things that the _Prophet_ mostly won't touch."

"We'll be happy to, both me and my cousin. We didn't know we were magical till we got notified about Hogwarts, though. You say your daughter's going to Hogwarts this year? Is she with you?"

"She and Ginny went off to the ladies' together. And here comes Ginny now!" Sure enough, Ron's little sister was approaching. "Ginny, where is Luna?"

Ginny looked behind her. "She was right here, just now! Oh, Merlin, where could she have wandered off to?" She began to babble apologies. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Lovegood! She was right here behind me just a minute ago!"

"Luna!" her father called. "Luna!"

Mrs. Weasley clutched her husband's arm. "Oh, dear! Arthur, do you think she might have wandered into Knockturn Alley?" All the adults paled.

"What is Knockturn Alley?" asked Dudley.

"That's where the Dark Arts stuff is sold! It's a really dodgy place! Oh, Merlin, if Luna's wandered in there, I'll never forgive myself!" Mr. Lovegood looked distraught. "Ever since her mother died, she's all I have left! Oh, Luna!"

"Knockturn Alley's entrance is not far from where we were in the loo," Ginny volunteered. "Right down there."

"Right, then! I'm going in and seeing if I can find her!" At the adults' scandalized expressions, Harry explained: "Look, Roanapur has plenty of dodgy areas. Dudley and I both grew up there, and we're well used to dealing with that sort of thing. Hermione! You with us?"

"One moment, boys!" Hermione turned to Mr. Lovegood. "What does your daughter look like?"

"She's about my height, with dark-blonde hair worn to waist length, big silvery-grey eyes, and wearing grey robes." Ginny was looking pale, but she had clearly kept her head. "I'm going in with you!"

"Oh, no you're not, young lady!" Mrs. Weasley grabbed her daughter by the arm. "And that goes for you too, young man!" Ron looked abashed. "Knockturn Alley's dangerous!"

"We can handle it, Mrs. Weasley!" Before she could grab them, Harry, Dudley and Hermione were charging across Diagon Alley, pushing startled people out of the way, heading straight into Knockturn Alley.

END


	23. Down the Rabbit Hole

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 23

Down the Rabbit Hole

Knockturn Alley was dark and narrow; the tall buildings on either side blocked out most of the watery British sunlight. It was cooler than home, but Harry and Dudley both felt right at home instantly. In many ways, it was very reminiscent of a Roanapur alleyway.

Hermione was less reassured. She clearly found the ambience sinister and threatening, and she tended to stay between the two boys as they walked down the alley. "Don't act scared, Hermione. People in places like this can home in on that sort of thing like a vulture on a corpse," Harry muttered. She nodded, and made a visible effort to throw off the symptoms of fear. Her big dark eyes still flicked around, and her grip on her wand was stronger than it needed to be, but only someone who knew her well would have known that she was still nervous. Outwardly, she was as cool as could be. Harry approved; Roanapur had clearly been good for Hermione's self-confidence. She had had some long, one-on-one talks with Balalaika while she had been there, and Harry wondered what the elegant, cynical Russian crime queen had told his friend.

The people they saw were also familiar, at least at first sight. They all seemed to be on sinister errands of one sort or another, and openly eyed the trio up before visibly deciding to go after easier prey. Harry grinned to himself. As soon as he could, once back in Britain, he had made contact with some of the local criminals who were associates of Hotel Moscow, and they had made sure that he and Dudley both had pistols. Under his shirt, he had a holster with a Makarov pistol. Dudley also had one, but Harry didn't know where his was, just that he had it. The weight was reassuring. Harry knew that neither he nor Dudley was as good as Revy Two-Hands, but they both had been checked out and passed by Balalaika's faithful Sergeant Boris.

On second glance, many of the people they saw weren't so familiar, after all. One man who brushed past them with a growl looked wolf-like enough to make Harry very glad indeed that it wasn't the night of the full moon, and he wasn't the only clearly non-human person they saw. A weird-looking hag carrying a tray of what looked a lot like whole human fingernails stepped into their path.

"What you want, dearies? Care to buy?" Hermione looked at the tray and gulped, but before she could betray their unfamiliarity with Knockturn Alley, Harry stepped forward.

"We're looking for a friend of ours. Blonde girl, about _so_ high? Seen her?"

The hag nodded. "She went by a few minutes ago. She's down that way. Might have gone into Borgin and Burke's." Harry and Dudley both nodded their thanks as they went on past. In Roanapur, it was well to be courteous; even the most unlikely people could bring down retaliation instantly on those who displeased them. Knockturn Alley was likely to be even worse.

"Borgin and Burke's, Borgin and Burke's," muttered Dudley. "Where have I heard that name before?"

"Some of the older Slytherins mentioned it in conversations. Apparently it's a shop, well-known for selling Dark Arts-related stuff." Hermione answered, her voice low as she looked around herself warily.

"Just like the rest of this place," Harry murmured. "Stick close to us, Hermione. I don't doubt your courage, not for one second. But Dudley and I are the ones with years of experience. Frankly, right now I wouldn't mind having Sergeant Boris and some Hotel Moscow men with us!"

"From your mouth to God's ears," Dudley answered, peering into a dirty shop window at a display of objects that were difficult to identify. "Me, I wouldn't say no to having Snape along. At least he could likely identify what a lot of this stuff's for!"

"I want to come back sometime, after I've had a good long look through the Dark Arts collection in the library." Hermione was also looking curiously at some of the things that were for sale. "I can't imagine what anybody would do with these things!"

"There's Borgin and Burke's," Harry pointed. Sure enough, ahead of them, a dirty sign jutted out over the walkway, proclaiming the store's name. Since the alley dead-ended not far past the store, and there was no sign of a young blonde witch, the shop looked like a good place to check out. Harry led the way in, noting that the door had a bell on it that tinkled to let the proprietor know that someone had entered.

Nobody greeted them, and they looked around warily. The shop was bigger than it had seemed from the front, and piles of unidentifiable objects created haphazard aisles going deeper into the back. This place would be a shoplifters' paradise, thought Harry, before remembering that shops run by wizards might well have more ways than one to prevent inventory shrinkage. Stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets, he led the way farther in, peering through the dim, rather smoky light. Hermione came behind him, and Dudley took the rear. Instinctively, they stayed close together. The shop did not seem like a very inviting place.

Coming around a corner, Harry's eyes went wide, and he gestured to his friends. Standing there with his back to them was none other than Draco Malfoy, standing beside a tall, elegant-looking man with long white hair. Facing them was a blonde girl that had to be Luna Lovegood. She was staring up at them with protuberant silvery-grey eyes. Harry thought that she didn't seem to blink as often as he would have expected, and wondered if there was something a little off about her.

The tall man…Mr. Malfoy?…was speaking. "What a pretty little girl you are, to be sure," he was purring, leaning over her with his face closer than Harry would have cared for, had it been him. "What delicate features you have. And I see you're beginning to grow up. You're a pureblood, my dear. Have you started wondering who your father will arrange a marriage for you with?"

"My father would never arrange a marriage for me, sir," the girl answered. She didn't seem to be afraid of the man, but she did seem wary. When he reached out for her, she stepped back slightly.

"Oh? Your family believes in…_love unions_? How terribly quaint!" The tone in the man's voice set Harry's teeth straight on edge. It reminded him uncomfortably of some people in Roanapur…the ones that Aunt Petunia, and Balalaika, and all of the adults he trusted, told him to avoid at all costs. The man went on: "In my day, such a pretty young girl would have had men bidding against each other to be the one her father selected to be her new husband! Of course, _some_ families…" he preened visibly, and Harry fought down an urge to gag… "were considered to be valuable to ally one's family with, for the sake of wealth, or power." The gloating tone in his voice was palpable. "My Draco, of course, has a bride all picked out for him."

"Well, my Daddy isn't interested in wealth or power. He's interested in the truth," said the girl. "He publishes the _Quibbler_ magazine. He wants to expose the seamy underbelly of magical society, and to find the creatures that everybody says don't exist!" She stood her ground, sticking out her chin and giving the tall man stare-for-stare. Harry had to approve of her courage. In her boots, he'd have been backing away and drawing a weapon.

And her words had confirmed her identity. Hermione called out: "Luna! Your father sent us! He wants you back out in Diagon Alley! You've shopping to do yet!" The blonde girl's eyes went wide as she looked past Draco to see Harry, Dudley and Hermione standing there.

"Oh, hullo! Is Daddy worried about me? I've been having the nicest chat with these people! Isn't this place fascinating?" She came forward, pointing to what looked very like a shriveled, dried-up, severed human hand. "I never knew you could buy those on the open market!" Behind her, Draco turned pale to see his housemates, and the tall, white-haired man with him gripped the head of a fancy cane, his lips going tight.

"I'm Hermione Granger, and these are my House mates, Dudley Dursley and Harry Potter. We're all going to be in second year at Hogwarts together. Did you wander away from Ginny?" Hermione drew the blonde girl in closer, and Harry and Dudley automatically moved to cover her, their wands unobtrusively in their hands.

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Luna Lovegood. I've just been talking with Mr. Malfoy here." She waved behind her at the Malfoys, heedless of the way that Mr. Malfoy was staring at her. Harry had seen expressions like that before, usually on very hungry people who were looking at food.

"Oh, hello, Draco! Good to see you again! How was your summer? And who's this with you?" To hear Harry, they could have been out on Diagon Alley, or someplace else normal, instead of the depths of Knockturn Alley.

Draco blushed. "My father. Father, I'd like you to meet some of my housemates. Harry Potter's the one with the glasses, and with him is his cousin Dudley Dursley. And, of course, Hermione Granger. Hermione, Harry, and Dudley, this is my father."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Malfoy," Harry lied, his voice as smooth as though he had been telling the truth. In Roanapur, being able to conceal one's true feelings was a survival trait. "We hate to interrupt, but Mr. Lovegood's looking for his daughter, so we'd probably best get her back to him."

"And it's a pleasure to meet you at last, Mr. Potter, Mr. Dursley, and…Miss Granger," purred Mr. Malfoy. He looked at each of them carefully, and the way he looked at Hermione made Harry shudder. It was like he could see clear through her clothes, and he was checking her over for scars or flaws. Hermione caught it too, and her eyes narrowed.

"We'd love to stay and chat, but we've got to get Luna back to her father. He's worried about her," Harry said, unobtrusively beginning to herd his friends, and Luna, back toward the door. "See you up at Hogwarts, Draco!"

"And do keep in mind that that palanquin we used before is still up there," purred Hermione. She gave Draco a malicious grin. "If you start getting above yourself again, you'll get the same treatment you got before!" Draco turned red, then white, then red again. Harry snickered to himself as he and his friends exited Borgin and Burke's. He privately considered Draco Malfoy a complete wanker, coasting along on his family money and name, and regarded the blond boy with the utmost contempt.

"Are you all right, Luna?" Hermione asked, concern in her voice. "Did they do anything to you?" Her eyes narrowed, and from the way she was holding her wand, if Luna had confirmed that the Malfoys had harmed her, Harry thought that Draco, at least, would not survive his first night back at Hogwarts. Snape had a strict zero-tolerance policy on matters of that sort, and the older Slytherins enthusiastically enforced his will on that front, even when they might wink at other misdemeanors.

"Oh, I'm fine, Hermione," Luna answered, her manner rather abstracted. To see her, Harry thought, you'd think that she'd been off in a meadow picking daisies, instead of blithely wandering through one of the worst nests of nastiness in London. "They were very nice to me. Mr. Malfoy was acting rather strangely, though. I wonder what it was he could have wanted with me?"

Over Luna's head, Harry, Dudley and Hermione exchanged significant glances. Silently, they agreed that once they were out of the Alley, and someplace they wouldn't be overheard, they needed to have a long, _long_ talk with Luna.


	24. Alley Things Considered

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 24

Alley Things Considered

When Harry, Dudley and Hermione came back, triumphantly escorting Luna, they found the adults in a fine old tizzy. It sounded a lot like they were arguing over who'd go into Knockturn Alley to retrieve them.

"A fine father _you_ are, Arthur Weasley!" Molly was screaming. "I would think that you'd be concerned enough about that girl to go in there yourself!"

"If I do, who'll prevent _our_ two from charging right along in with me?" Arthur had both Ginny and Ron firmly by their collars, despite their wriggling. Harry nodded; Mr. Weasley did have a good point.

Xenophilius Lovegood was visibly dithering. "Should I call the Aurors, or should I go in there myself?"

At that point, Luna piped up: "Don't worry, Daddy! I'm right here! I'd never leave _you_!" Xeno gave a loud shout of joy and threw himself on his daughter; they embraced, and Harry could hear muffled protestations of love and concern from both of them. He looked away; there seemed to be something in his eye. Hermione and Dudley's eyes were also suspiciously bright.

"That place really must have a bad reputation, for them to act like this," Hermione muttered. "I should look it up and see what the books say."

Both adult Weasleys leaped on Harry, Dudley and Hermione, checking to make sure they were all right. "Honest, ma'am, everything's fine! Nobody bothered us! We found Luna in a store she'd wandered into. She was talking to one of our House mates and his father."

Arthur Weasley's eyes went wide. "One of your housemates?" Then he gave them a very penetrating look. "Which one was it?"

Luna said: "His name is Draco Malfoy, Mr. Weasley. He saw me, and called his father over to see what I was doing. Mr. Malfoy was _very_ friendly. He wanted to know if my Daddy had arranged a marriage for me yet." She looked thoughtful. "I did think that the way he looked at me was odd…"

Arthur straightened to his full height, and Molly looked very grim. "That scum," muttered Arthur. "That utter, slithering, plotting scum…" He shuddered. "To think he was trying to entice a girl your age…" He gave Luna a very intense look. "Did he do anything…bad…to you? Did he touch you, or try to get you to go somewhere with him?"

"No, Mr. Weasley. He was rather nice, I thought." Arthur relaxed slightly, although Molly still had a look in her eye that promised death and destruction to Lucius Malfoy. Xenophilus Lovegood also looked much more focussed than he had earlier, and he was fingering his wand absently.

Harry, Dudley and Hermione were all visibly puzzled, and Ron finally managed to get close to them. In a low voice, so that Luna wouldn't overhear, he muttered: "Mr. Malfoy was a prominent follower of You-Know-Who during the war. Afterward, he claimed he was enchanted…under the Imperius Curse, one of the Unforgiveable Curses. They let him off. Dad doesn't believe for a second that Mr. Malfoy was under any curse; he's sure that Mr. Malfoy was with You-Know-Who because he wanted to be."

Molly was fussing over Luna, who didn't seem to understand why the older witch was so worried. "I'm all right, Mrs. Weasley. Really. Can we go and get our books now? It looks like the line's not so long. And I do want to see Gilderoy Lockhart." Reminded, Mrs. Weasley let Luna go, and Harry smiled inwardly to see the motherly witch unobtrusively straightening her hair and doing other little things to improve her looks. Ginny was also clearly excited, and so was Hermione. Luna, on the other hand, was calmness personified.

"I'm not at all sure that this Gilderoy Lockhart's all he's cracked up to be, myself," Luna said primly. "I wrote him a letter once asking if he'd ever come across a Crumple-Horned Snorkack, and he wrote back and told me not to be such a silly little girl, and that Snorkacks don't really exist!" She sniffed, and drew closer to her father, who put his arm around his little girl's shoulder. For a second, Harry envied her; although he loved his Aunt Petunia, there were times that he'd have given anything he owned to be able to know his own parents. He thought they'd have loved Dudley.

The line at the bookstore wasn't as long as it had been, but there was still a crowd of people waiting to have their books autographed by the famous wizard. Harry and his companions joined the end of the line, after they had found the books they needed. The cashier was right up by Gilderoy Lockhart. There were still piles of _Magical Me_ about, as well as Lockhart's other works. The children picked up copies of the ones they'd been assigned, and got into line to see the cashier.

Harry was amused to see the reactions of the witches in the line to see Lockhart. They were all aflutter, save only Luna. He turned to call Dudley's attention to the phenomenon…and saw Draco and his father strolling into the shop. Mr. Malfoy saw Mr. Lovegood and Mr. Weasley, and his eyes lit up with malicious amusement.

"Arthur, Xenophilius," he drawled, his supercilious air making Harry want to punch him a good one, "such a pleasure to see you! Never thought I'd see you in a shop!" He grinned nastily. "Are you still publishing that rag, Xenophilius, or did you get a _paying_ job at long last?"

Xenophilius Lovegood's eyes narrowed. "Still on the loose and free, I see, Malfoy," he retorted. "No matter. Sooner or later they'll come for you. You and your sweet, sweet sister-in-law will have the most _touching_ reunion!"

Malfoy went pale, and he pulled his wand halfway out of his fancy cane. Before he could draw it, Xeno and Arthur Weasley both had him covered, and Harry, Ron, Dudley and Hermione had drawn their own wands. For a second or two, things looked very tense.

The ruckus attracted Lockhart's attention. "Hello? Can you keep it down back there?" Then he saw Harry. "Bless my soul! If it isn't Harry Potter!" He bustled up to Harry, who shrank back against his friends. "Play along, Harry! It'll be on the front page of the _Prophet _tomorrow!" he hissed.

Suddenly, Lockhart found his arm grabbed and twisted behind his back by an angry Dudley Dursley. "Back _off_!" Dudley snarled. People were often surprised by Dudley's raw strength, and Lockhart seemed to be no exception to that rule. Startled out of their paralysis, the Weasley parents and Xenophilius Lovegood stepped forward, wands out. Lockhart shrank back.

"But…but…a picture in the _Prophet_ would do his career ever so much good!" Lockhart said.

Luna said, all innocence: "But this is _your_ big event, Mr. Lockhart! We wouldn't want to upstage you! We're just here to get our textbooks!" She turned to the others. "We wouldn't want to take attention away from Mr. Lockhart on his big day, would we? I'm sure all these books are available at Ulrich's Used Books, down the other end of the Alley! And a lot cheaper, too!" Harry and Dudley grinned and made as if to return their selections to the shelves.

Lockhart turned green, then pale. "No, no, no need for _that_! I'll just get back to my signing! But I do have an announcement to make!" At this, all eyes were on him. "Little did Harry…and his friends…know that instead of just getting my books, they'd be getting me this year! I have accepted the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts for the upcoming school year!" At this, the store rang with applause, and Harry, Dudley, Ron, Hermione and Luna were able to pick up their books without further pestering.

Afterwards, Xenophilius and Molly Weasley took Harry, Ron, Hermione and Dudley over to Fortescue's for ice cream, while Arthur Weasley escorted his daughter and Luna off to buy school supplies. Xenophilius was back in a sunny mood, asking Harry and Dudley questions about Thailand.

Molly wasn't paying much attention. When Hermione asked her what was on her mind, she said "Lucius Malfoy. That man's so devious that I think he even sleeps to further some plan or other. What could he have wanted with Luna?"

Dudley and Harry exchanged significant glances. One could not grow up in Roanapur without a thorough knowledge of the seamy side of life. Balalaika had made very sure that they knew what some men were capable of, which was one reason why they'd been taught how to escape and fight back if grabbed. While most people in Roanapur would sooner drink a drain-cleaner cocktail than deliberately sexually assault one of Balalaika's employees, there were always random crazies, and people who were new to town.

"Does he have a reputation for _liking_ young girls, ma'am?" At Dudley's question, Hermione gasped, her eyes going huge with horror. Xenophilius paled.

Molly knew just what he meant. While she was a very respectable housewife, she was by no means ignorant of the wicked ways of the world. "No, dear. He has many nasty rumours about him, but that's one thing that's never been mentioned in them."

Hermione visibly remembered something. "Mr. Lovegood mentioned Mr. Malfoy's sister-in-law." Molly started as though she'd been poked with a pin. "Please, Mr. Lovegood, what did you mean by that?" She gave Mr. Lovegood an imploring look. "It's just that I'm new to the magical community, and I want to know all I can about it."

Xenophilius seemed to be looking off into the distance, at something only he could see. "During the war against You-Know-Who, one of the most prominent of the enemy was Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Her sister, Narcissa Black, ended up marrying Lucius Malfoy. She's the mother of young Draco. That makes Bellatrix Lucius' sister-in-law."

"After Harry, here, defeated You-Know-Who, Bellatrix and her husband, her brother-in-law, and a young man from a prominent family…and wasn't _that_ a scandal?…got it into their heads that another boy was the Boy-Who-Lived. They were caught after attacking that family, and sentenced to life in Azkaban, the wizarding prison." Molly looked stern. "And that's enough of that subject! I hope not to hear that you're throwing his aunt's crimes into young Draco's face at that school!"

"There's no need. He provides us with endless hours of entertainment without that," Harry assured her. "Did we tell you about how we cured him of strutting around like some sort of little tin god?"

"That was Hermione's scheme, ma'am," Dudley put in. "She should be the one to tell it!"

Nothing loath, Hermione launched into an account of how the Slytherins had got together to pour satiric honors and applause over Draco Malfoy. By the time her story was over, Luna, Ginny and the adults were all howling with laughter, imagining Draco Malfoy being borne around the school in a palanquin, with his classmates all bowing and scraping, pointedly pretending to be awed by merely being in his presence.

Wiping tears from her face, Molly chuckled: "I wish we'd had you about when I went to school myself! There were a few people around who could have done with the Palanquin Treatment!"

"I'm surprised that Lucius Malfoy hasn't hired you to provide him with that sort of thing every day of his life!" Xenophilius Lovegood snickered.

END


	25. The Midday Express

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 25

The Midday Express

Harry came snapping awake. It was the night before he was to leave for Hogwarts, and there was something in the bed with him…something that didn't belong. He grabbed for his wand. "Lumos!" he hissed, hoping not to awaken Dudley. His cousin had a hard time falling asleep sometimes, and really wasn't fond of being awakened unnecessarily.

He let out a startled gasp. Perched on the bed was a weird creature; no more than three feet high, draped in a ratty towel, with a wizened face and big bulging eyes. Roanapur instincts kicked in, and Harry pointed his wand, snapping: "Dudley! We've got intruders!"

Dudley catapulted out of his sheet-and-blanket cocoon, his wand in his hand. "What in Buddha's name is that?" he gasped.

The creature cringed to see two wands pointed toward it. "Oh, kind masters, forgive poor Dobby! Dobby is only here to tell you that the great Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts! There is great danger!"

"First off, what in the world _are_ you?" Harry snarled, reaching for his glasses with his free hand. "Second, how in the world did you get _in here_?"

"Dobby is a house-elf, and house-elves can go where they need to," the creature answered. Harry's eyes went wide, and he knew Dudley's had, too. They had heard mention of house-elves many times, but this was the first one they'd seen up close.

" Very well. _Whose_ house-elf are you, and _why_ are you here?" Dudley asked. He had managed to snag his pistol from the nightstand where it usually rested, and while he wasn't pointing it, it was ready to go into action.

Dobby began to weep. "Oh, this is so difficult! House-elves keep their masters' secrets, but Dobby must warn Harry Potter not to go to Hogwarts! There is great danger there this year, and it is aimed at Harry Potter!"

Harry gave Dobby a sardonic grin. "Look, Dobby, I do appreciate the warning, but I _come from_ a dangerous place. You ought to see Roanapur sometime. Gunfights in the streets are the least of it!" He shivered, remembering the murderous maid Roberta and how she'd remorselessly chased him and his friends through the streets, after casually blowing up the Yellowflag bar and winning a gunfight with the local Colombian cartel representatives.

"Yeah, he and I can both take care of ourselves. What sort of danger are you talking about?" At this question from Dudley, Dobby began twisting his long, floppy ears, before jumping off the bed and beginning to bang his head against the wall. "Stop that! Stop that right now!"

"Oh, Dudley Dursley is a great wizard!" sobbed Dobby. "To care about the welfare of a lowly house-elf! We house-elves must punish ourselves if we displease a wizard or witch, especially our master or mistress!"

Harry got off the bed and knelt by Dobby's side. "You came here to warn us about danger. Why did you come, if your master will be angry?"

Dobby looked at Harry and Dudley with his huge eyes. "Oh, Harry Potter doesn't know how things were before he banished You-Know-Who! Those days were very dark! House-elves were routinely threatened with death! Of course, Dobby is still threatened with death daily, but things are better for elves in general, and it's all down to the great Harry Potter!"

Harry felt like tearing his hair. "But can you tell me what sort of danger is at Hogwarts?"

"No! Dobby has said too much already! Dobby will have to iron his ears just for coming here!" And with a pop, the elf disappeared. Harry and Dudley looked at each other. Then Dudley sighed.

"It's four o'clock. I won't be able to get back to sleep, not after this. What d'you say to a spot of tea apiece? We're all packed up and ready to go tomorrow."

"Sounds good." The boys were both British, and that meant that they felt that a cup or two of tea would make anything better. Soon they were sitting on their beds, trying to make sense of their visitor.

"Maybe he's just barmy," Dudley offered. "I mean, you banished that bad wizard again last year. How can he be up to fresh shenanigans?"

"I don't know, Dudley," Harry said, sipping thoughtfully at his tea. "I'd feel better if Hermione was here. She's read a lot more than we have, and she'd likely know more about house-elves than we do."

"Maybe we can ask her tomorrow." Dudley emptied his teacup and got up to refill it. "In the meantime, how about watching a video? We won't be able to again till Christmas hols." Harry was willing enough, and soon they were laughing at a comedy video, the visit all but forgotten.

OOO

The next day, they got to Kings Cross station in plenty of time. Balalaika and Petunia had both drilled it into them that "early is on time and on time is late," and they were soon standing on Platform 9 ¾, looking around. Harry saw when the Weasleys arrived, and waved to show them where he and Dudley were.

Ron, Fred, George and Percy all came over, and Harry noticed with amusement how their little sister tagged after them, shy but determined not to be left out. She had Luna Lovegood in tow, and the blonde witch came right up to Harry and Dudley fearlessly. "Hello, Harry Potter and Dudley Dursley. It's very nice to see you again. Daddy thinks the world of you and your friends, you know. He was afraid he'd lost me."

"Nobody'd want to lose _you_, Luna," Dudley said, smiling down at the small blonde. She cocked her head to one side and gave him a long, appraising stare, solemn as an owl. Dudley was clearly amused, turning slightly to give her a good look.

"I think Luna's found something she likes," one of the twins commented.

"Better watch out, Dudley! She may look harmless, but she has a whim of steel. If she decides she wants you, that'll be that!" the other twin chuckled.

Ron and Percy whirled on the twins, their eyes blazing. But before they could say anything, Ginny swiftly kicked both twins in the shins, hard. "You lay _off_ Luna! I still remember all the times you pranked her! You try that again and I'll owl Mum so fast you won't know what hit you!" The twins paled slightly.

Luna moved closer to Dudley, and he put his arm around her protectively. Luna snuggled up, looking at Dudley with big round eyes that brimmed with trust. Harry noticed, and smiled to himself. His big cousin was touchy about bullies. Luna was in safe hands.

Once they were aboard the train, Harry and his friends claimed a compartment, and hauled Ginny and Luna in with them. "Keep you two safe from the ruckus out there," Ron explained.

"They run up and down, hooting and hollering, and acting _very childishly_," Hermione sniffed, and everybody else grinned. That remark was vintage Hermione!

"They're children, Hermione. Just like _us_." Luna looked steadily at Hermione, and much to Harry's amusement, Hermione blushed slightly. "Did you forget that?"

Seeing Hermione reminded Harry of what had happened the night before. "Hermione, what do you know about house-elves?"

Hermione gave Harry a strange look. "They're mentioned in some of my books, but none of them have gone into much detail. Why do you ask?"

"Dudley and I were visited by one last night. He tried to tell me not to go to Hogwarts. He wouldn't say why. Just that there was danger waiting."

"That's really rum," Ron said, raising one ginger eyebrow. "House-elves are generally found in large wizard houses. Mum'd love to have one to help with housework, but we're not nearly posh enough to have one."

"Do you think it might have been sent on purpose, or do you think it came on its own?" Hermione looked thoughtful.

"Difficult to say. For the most part, house-elves have to do as their owners say." At the word "owner," Hermione's eyes went hard.

"_Owners_? Are you saying they're slaves?"

"They're bound to a wizarding family, usually. If they're dismissed, they often pine away." Hermione looked horrified. "They do all sorts of work around the house, and have their own kind of magic."

"Well, I know what I'll be doing when I get to school!" Hermione gave them all a very determined look. "There's got to be something about house-elves in the library!" Ron, Dudley, and Harry all shared a look. That was absolutely classic Hermione.

About midway into the journey, the door to their compartment opened, and there stood Draco Malfoy, grinning nastily. Beside him, Crabbe and Goyle loomed. "Oh, there you are. I'm not too surprised that you took up with Loony, here. But everybody in Slytherin knows you've got poor taste. Must be that bad Muggle blood coming through."

"You're talking _smack_ about my parents again, Draco?" Dudley's voice dripped icicles, and his wand was in his hand. "I thought we had this conversation last year. Guess hanging around with that _criminal_ must have made you forget!"

Harry and Hermione also drew their wands. "And that goes for my mother, _and_ her family, Draco," purred Harry, smiling his most ominous smile…the one he'd learned from watching Balalaika intimidating people while staying perfectly polite and never raising her voice. "You've been getting kind of big for your britches!"

Hermione's eyes gleamed dangerously. "There's three of us, and three of you. I'd just as soon things stayed peaceful, but if you want to dance, we do know the steps. Think your two goons are up to the challenge?"

"What do you mean, _three_?" Ron snarled. He glared at Draco, his wand hand twitching with eagerness. "Luna's a friend of my sister's. That means that if you insult her, you insult all of us! Not to mention, I count _six_ wands in this compartment, and you've only got three! I'd be careful, Draco. One of these days, that alligator mouth of yours will run up a bill your canary arse can't cover! _So mind your step!"_

Draco clearly hadn't expected the ferocity of their response, and took a step back. "Just you wait! You'll regret calling my dad a criminal!"

"Oh?" Ron's voice was all honeyed innocence…like a valentine wrapped around an ice pick. "You expect us to believe for one second that your father was 'under the Imperius?'" He snorted theatrically. "Tell _that_ to the Hufflepuffs…we Slytherins won't believe it!"

"What _legitimate _business would he have at Borgin and Burke's, Draco?" Hermione hissed the question, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That place is full of all sorts of Dark Arts paraphrenalia!"

"Like-?" Distracted for a minute, Ron turned to Hermione. "What did you see there, Hermione? And how would you recognize it?"

"There was a Hand of Glory. If you put a candle into it, it only gives light to whoever's holding it. That's Dark Arts right there; human body parts other than things like hair or fingernail clippings are only used for Dark spells. And the Hand of Glory's made from the hand of an executed murderer!"

"Damn, I wish I'd have known! I can think of dozens of uses for something like that!" Harry grinned. "And wouldn't something like that be useful back home, Dudley?"

His cousin nodded eagerly. "Bags we buy it if it's still there over the hols!"

"Harry James Potter! What use would you have for such an awful thing?" shrieked Hermione, before she visibly remembered. "Oh…yeah. _Roanapur_." She blushed.

"What sort of town do you come from, Potter?" Draco asked, his eyes wide. "From what you've said, it's some sort of criminals' haven!" He sneered. "And you dare to call _my father_ a criminal?"

"Oh, Roanapur's perfectly nice," Harry said blandly. "Most of the time."

"In any case, Draco, I think it's been made clear that you're not welcome here. You're rude, ill-bred, and the Platonic ideal of obnoxiousness. Go somewhere else where we don't have to look at you. We'll have to put up with you at school, but for now, we want you _gone_!" And with that, Ron slammed the compartment door in Draco's surprised face.

Luna, who'd watched the whole exchange with wide eyes, finally spoke up. "Thank you. I know some people think I'm a bit strange, but it was very nice of you to stick up for me." She snuggled a little closer to Dudley, who put his arm around her, then blushed to see Hermione and Ginny's knowing expressions. Even so, he didn't take his arm away.

END


	26. Sorting Things Out

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 26

Sorting Things Out

by Technomad

When they got to school, the second-years and first-years separated. Luna looked up at Hagrid, who smiled down at her. "Hullo, Mr. Hagrid. It's nice to see you again. I enjoyed it when you came to visit us."

Hagrid smiled down at the little blonde. "An' hello to you, Miss Luna. I see you've made some friends." Sure enough, Dudley was right behind her, along with Harry, Ron and Hermione. Ginny was hanging back, suddenly a bit shy at the sight of such a large person. "Good to see you four again. Did y' have a good time over the summer?"

"Oh, we did," Harry replied, with a smile. "Dudley and I went back to Thailand, and Hermione got to visit us!"

Hagrid's bushy eyebrows went up, and Hermione chimed in. "I had a wonderful time, and met ever so many interesting people! Foreign travel is so educational!" Harry, Hermione and Dudley shared a secret grin. "Educational" was probably one word for a visit to Roanapur…but not the one Harry would have chosen!

Ginny and Luna were soon in a boat, with another girl and an enthusiastic blond boy who was eagerly pointing a camera at everything in sight. Along with the other firsties, they were soon sailing across the lake toward Hogwarts, as Harry, Ron, Dudley and Hermione got into a carriage pulled by a couple of weird-looking horse-like creatures with bats' wings.

"Harry," whispered Dudley, "what are those things?"

"Beats me, Dudley," Harry whispered back. "Weird, aren't they?"

"What are you two talking about?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Those things pulling the carriage. Can't you see them?" Dudley pointed.

"What things pulling the carriage?" Hermione turned and peered forward. "I don't see anything!"

"They look like horses, Hermione. Black, starved-looking horses, but with big bat wings." Harry explained.

"Those sound like thestrals!" Ron interjected. "I think I remember hearing that Hagrid has a herd of them. They eat meat, and can only be seen by people who've seen death!"

Hermione and Ron stared at Harry and Dudley, round-eyed. Hermione finally broke the silence. "You two _are_ from Roanapur, aren't you? That would explain how you can see them!" Harry and Dudley nodded. They had seen people killed before, more than once. Ron stared at them as though his two friends had grown a second head apiece. For a second, Harry envied Ron his innocence, then he remembered that he wouldn't have traded his experience in Roanapur for the world.

Once they were settled in their seats at the Slytherin table, the four friends watched as the firsties were herded in by Professor McGonagall. Ron grinned and gave a thumbs-up, and Harry, Hermione and Dudley smiled, as Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood came past. Ginny gave them a tremulous smile, and Luna beamed back at them.

The Sorting seemed to take a long while, but eventually McGonagall called: "Lovegood, Luna!" and Luna stepped up to the stool with enough aplomb to make it look like being Sorted was something she did several times a week. Harry, Ron and Dudley smiled at how the big old hat covered her face.

Her Sorting took longer than most; several times, the Hat seemed to be about to announce something, only to pause and wait a little while longer. Finally, the verdict was in: "SLYTHERIN!" Along with the rest of the table, except, Harry was interested to note, Draco Malfoy and his cohorts, Harry applauded as Luna took off the hat, put it gently on the stool, gave it an affectionate pat, and walked over to join her new Housemates. Dudley moved over on the bench, and she sat down beside him, snuggling up to him as he put his arm around her protectively.

Harry looked down the table, at Draco Malfoy. The blond pureblood looked like he'd bitten into an apple to find himself faced with half a worm, after he'd swallowed his bite. The sight warmed Harry's heart. He knew about how deeply Draco's father had been involved with the Death Eaters, and he felt like he owed the Malfoys in general some serious payback.

Then Harry looked up at Professor Snape, at the faculty table. Professor Snape was looking very surprised, as though he hadn't anticipated getting Luna as one of his Snakes. Then he looked thoughtful.

On the Sorting went, until at last, the call went out: "Weasley, Ginevra!" Ginny stepped forward, smoothing her robes as she sat down on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on. Harry looked toward the Gryffindor table, and then at Ron. All of Ginny's brothers were intent on their baby sister's Sorting. Fred and George were silently urging the Hat to put the last Weasley into Gryffindor, and Percy, while he seemed to be cool and calm, was tapping the table with his fingertips. Meanwhile Ron was holding his breath.

Finally, the Hat called: "SLYTHERIN!" Ron jumped up and whooped with glee, while Fred and George looked utterly betrayed, and Percy's eyes went wide. Ginny tore off the Hat, put it on the stool, and raced over into Ron's arms. Harry wasn't quite sure, but he thought she gave Fred and George a triumphant little grin as she passed the Gryffindor table.

"Hi, Ginny! It's good to have you here! Won't this be fun?" Luna asked, as Professor Dumbledore launched into his usual "silly old coot" act, and huge plates of food appeared. Harry was pretty hungry, not having eaten since London, so he tucked on in eagerly.

"Yeah, it will. My mom'll have an eppy when she finds out where I was Sorted, but I've got to stand up and be my own witch. I can't just be 'Mamma's little girl' forever, now can I?" Ginny answered, spearing a chunk of fried chicken. "And besides, Ron made Slytherin sound such fun that I can't wait to get started!" She grinned at Luna, who was still nestled up close to Dudley. "Looks like you've found something fun to do already!"

Luna gave Dudley a beaming smile, heedless of his blush. "I like him. He's nice." Several girls sighed, and Dudley seemed to find something enormously interesting in his plate of food.

OOO

The next morning, the second-year Slytherins were scheduled for Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing. Harry, Ron and Dudley were amused to see their girl classmates frantically primping and preening, doing their best to upgrade their appearances, before class started.

Along with their classmates, they filed on in and took seats. Right on time, Gilderoy Lockhart waltzed in, favoring them all with his big gleaming smile. To Harry, it looked as phony as a wax fruit. The other boys generally didn't seem too impressed, but the girls all sighed.

Lockhart introduced himself, and said that he would start by setting them a quick exam to see how much they knew. When Harry saw the questions, his eyes went very wide. Not a single question covered the Dark Arts, or defense against same; it was all about the great Gilderoy Lockhart. He could answer most of the questions; the books he'd purchased at Flourish and Botts' for this course had proved to be very interesting reading, albeit not quite in the way their author had intended.

When the last student had passed in the exam paper, Lockhart went over them. "Ah, I see that Miss Hermione Granger has read my books very carefully! She got every answer perfectly correct! Take ten points for Slytherin, Miss Granger!" Hermione blushed bright red, and Ron, Harry and Dudley exchanged amused glances. This would afford them endless teasing fodder for later.

"Sheesh, what an egomaniac!" Ron commented quietly, once the class was over. "I swear I've never seen anybody in my life so in love with himself!"

"For once, Weasel, I agree with you," Draco Malfoy drawled. "Have you read his books? They're really heavy on the exploits of 'the great Gilderoy Lockhart' and descriptions of what he was wearing and how much everybody loves him, but light on details of how he did all those amazing things!"

"Are you feeling all right, Draco?" Ron asked. "We're actually agreeing on something!" Harry hid a grin. Ron had a point; for him and Draco Malfoy to be in the same corner was literally unprecedented.

"Look, Weasel, I don't like you, or your family. I'd a thousand times rather you were in Gryffindor where you should be, and I wouldn't have to share a common room or dorm room with you. And that goes for that gang of Muggle-lovers you hang around with," Draco said, suddenly very earnest. "But Defense is _important_! I don't _need_ to know that Lockhart won the _Witch Weekly_ award for Most Charming Smile five times in a row, or what sort of hair conditioner he uses! What I need to know is how to defend myself! We Malfoys have a lot of enemies!"

Dudley and Harry looked at each other, nonplussed. This was a side of Draco Malfoy's personality they'd never seen before. They didn't notice that the girls had all withdrawn from them in an indignant huddle, and gone on down the corridor with their noses firmly in the air.

That evening, Harry had a bright idea. They had an in-house expert on the Dark Arts at their disposal. Why not make use of him? When he proposed the idea to his male chums, they were enthusiastic. They did not mention anything to Hermione; she and the other Slytherin girls had been rather cold to them all day long, preferring to gather in groups and whisper to each other about Professor Lockhart.

Professor Snape seemed to be rather surprised that he was being called on, but he invited them into his office politely enough. Sitting back behind his desk, which was already piled with essays, lesson plans, and announcements, he asked: "And to what do I owe this unexpected unexpectedness?"

"Please, sir," said Dudley, "we were wondering if Professor Lockhart actually does know much about the Dark Arts."

Snape's eyes went very wide. "Indeed. That is a very interesting question. May I inquire as to what prompts it?"

"Sir," Ron said, "he set us a test on the first day of class. Instead of trying to find out how much we already knew about the Dark Arts and how to fight them, it was all about finding out how much we know about Gilderoy Lockhart!"

"And I read the books he set us, sir," Harry said. "They talk and talk about what Lockhart was wearing, or about how much people love him, but they don't really go into much detail as to _how_ he defeated these Dark creatures."

Snape looked very troubled. "Gentlemen, this places me in a very difficult position. I have repeatedly applied for the position Professor Lockhart now holds, only to be turned down despite high qualifications. In my foolish youth, I was a Death Eater, before thinking better of it." He gave Harry a significant look. "And, Mr. Potter, for the record, that was some time before your parents' murder. However, my background leaves me permanently tainted; one reason I teach here is because many potions manufacturers do not want anybody with even the slightest hint of Death Eater involvement in their employ."

` Now, this was news. Harry had noticed that Snape seemed to be rather more distant to him than to the rest of the Slytherins, but had just chalked it up to a possible personality clash and not let it bother him. The man knew what he was doing in the Potions lab, and Slytherin was a fairly congenial place to live, so he just went his way and let Snape go his. The idea that Snape might, on some level, resent him for causing the downfall of people who had been his friends, even if they'd come to a parting of the ways, was startling.

Snape went on: "Given this situation, even if I have doubts about Professor Lockhart's competence or qualifications, it ill-befits me to say anything. I would be seen as a bitter man trying to bring down a popular hero out of jealousy and spite. However," and Snape's black eyes suddenly gleamed, "if you children are able to prove his incompetence yourselves, preferably in a way that the Board of Governors of this school can accept, then he'll have to go. No matter how often he won the _Witch Weekly_ Most Charming Smile award!"

With that, they were dismissed, and Harry was thinking furiously. Snape had given them all the clues they needed. All they had to do was to gather proof. Slytherin style.

END Chapter 26


	27. A Letter Home

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 27

A Letter Home

Bougainvillea Trading Company main office, Roanapur, Thailand

Petunia Dursley smiled to see the letter on her desk. She recognized the handwriting on the address instantly, and eagerly opened it, hardly able to wait to find out what her boys were up to now. She hadn't been able to stay in Britain after flying in with them, due to an emergency coming up in Thailand that required her presence, and she had felt a real pang having to wave goodbye to her boys at Heathrow.

_Dear Mum/Aunt Petunia_, she read. The boys always wrote joint letters, which warmed her heart. She was glad that Dudley had had a "brother" to grow up with. She was even gladder that Hogwarts, far from separating the boys the way she still regretted having been separated from her sister, had united them. Then, as she read on, her eyes grew wider and wider, until she finally came to a decision, and buzzed her employer.

Balalaika's warm contralto came over the intercom. "Yes, Petunia? Is there something I need to see in today's mail?"

"A letter from Dudley and Harry. They've got a problem going on at their school, and they thought you might be able to help them with it."

"A problem at their school? This sounds interesting, particularly since I am not, myself, at all magical. I'm flattered that they think so highly of my skills. Bring it on in and I'll read it with you. Things are slow today anyway." Bougainvillea Trading's legitimate activities were all going very smoothly, and Hotel Moscow's more illicit affairs were also running exactly as they should. No small amount of the credit for that went to Petunia Dursley; by that time, the Englishwoman could easily have stepped into Balalaika's shoes, at least for non-combat-related activities. Balalaika appreciated that, and made sure that Petunia's pay packet showed her appreciation.

Once Petunia was in Balalaika's office, the women put their heads together and read.

_Things here are going well, on the whole. We've got some new friends. Ron's little sister Ginny, and her friend Luna Lovegood. Luna's a strange one. We aren't sure if she's crazy, or the sanest person we've ever seen. But that's not the problem we need help with._

_ You remember the trouble we had with our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor last year? We've got a new one, Gilderoy Lockhart, and although he's got a great reputation, we're not at all sure that he's really the great wizard he claims to be. For starters, he had us buying all of his books, and he's written quite a few of them, about how he (allegedly) defeated Dark Creatures. But the books don't go into much detail about how he did it; instead, they talk and talk and talk about what he was wearing, or how much people love him. He's an attention hound and a show-off, and we think he might just be a phony. The girls (except for Luna) all think he's marvelous, though. _

_ Can you suggest some ways for us to investigate this? Professor Snape wouldn't say anything against him directly, but when you know him as well as we've come to, you learn to read between the lines. He doesn't __like__ the new professor. Professor Snape said that if we could prove our case, Professor Lockhart'd have to go, and we might get a decent teacher in that slot for a change. The bad wizard who killed Harry's parents possessed our last D.A.D.A. professor, and he might be back, so we need the best knowledge we can get on that subject, not stuff about what Gilderoy Lockhart was wearing! _

_ Please show this to Balalaika; she'll be sure to have good ideas. _

_ Got to run; we've got Astronomy tomorrow at 3 AM, and we need to be in bed. _

_ Dudley and Harry._

Balalaika's eyes narrowed. "I do not like the idea of those boys having to put up with substandard instruction," she said. "Let me think about how they might be able to prove this _Lockhart_ is not all he claims to be…"

Slytherin Common Room, Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, Scotland, United Kingdom

Dudley came in, waving a letter. "Hey, Harry! I heard back from Mum!" Harry came over eagerly; they had pinned a lot of hope on Petunia and her employer being able to help out on what they'd come to call the "Lockhart Problem."

The boys opened the letter eagerly, to find five pages of neat typescript. Ron came over to see what they had received, his eyes going wide at the exotic Thai stamps on the letter.

"Do you want the stamps, Ron?" At his nod, the boys from Roanapur handed him the envelope. "Balalaika's got some good ideas about how we can prove that Lockhart's a fraud."

"Let me see!" Ron budged on over to look at the letter, and several of the boys came over, curious about what Harry Potter's mysterious employer/mentor had to say about the "Lockhart Situation." By that time, they'd all experienced Lockhart's teaching, and none of them thought well of the man. The girls who were in the room all sniffed disdainfully and withdrew. Harry watched them with amusement.

They read: _Dear Harry and Dudley, I showed your letter to Balalaika and she had some very interesting suggestions. Here they are_…

As they read, their eyes grew wider and wider, and then narrowed with cunning, as they all began smiling evil smiles. Luna, alone of all the girls, had wandered over to see what the boys were up to, and, snugly ensconced under Dudley Dursley's strong protective arm, smiled too, her eyes wide and deceptively guileless.

The next afternoon, after classes were over, Professor Flitwick was surprised to find himself hosting a delegation of Slytherin boys. "Well, gentlemen, this is unusual. How can I help you, and why are you here with me, instead of your House head?"

"Please, sir, we were wondering if it'd be permitted to start a Duelling Club. Since we've found out that you are a championship duellist yourself, we thought of you as the sponsor."

Flitwick raised his eyebrows. "That's quite flattering. And I would be pleased to do so. However, another sponsor, in addition to myself, would be a good idea."

"Yes, sir. We were thinking about asking Professor Lockhart. Maybe he could take the girls and teach them what he knows, while you work with us?" At the mention of Lockhart's name, Flitwick's eyes narrowed. Harry thought that he, too, had been unfavorably impressed by the posturing Defense professor.

Flitwick's smile struck Harry as distinctly carnivorous. "That sounds like a wonderful idea! Perhaps you young men should consult with Professor Lockhart about this? After all, he has a busy schedule already; I see that he's going to be meeting with a Witches' Institute to talk about how he came to write _Magical Me_, and that's on top of his teaching. He may also be called upon to deal with some outbreak of Dark creatures."

"Oh, we will, sir! I think that Professor Lockhart will be happy to help!" And with that, the boys took their leave, as Flitwick stared after them, shaking his head ruefully and chuckling.

OOO

When they approached him, Professor Lockhart was delighted with the idea. "A Duelling Club? Capital idea! I'll be glad to teach you boys all I know about duelling…see my published works for details! And having Professor Flitwick in on it'll be a great help. While he's not really in my league, I'm told that he knows a thing or two about duelling."

"Perhaps we could split it up? Maybe have you teaching the girls, while Professor Flitwick teaches us boys. Then have a friendly competition, to see who's learned the most?" Draco Malfoy's damask cheek showed no sign of the tongue firmly planted in it; Harry admired his cool plausibility.

"By Merlin, that sounds absolutely wonderful! We'll have two teams, and train separately, and then put on an exhibition for the school at large. Don't want to separate teams strictly by gender, though…wouldn't look good for you boys, being trounced by a bunch of mere girls!" Lockhart winked in a man-to-man way that made Harry and Dudley instinctively step back and put their hands over their money pouches. _In Roanapur_, thought Harry, _I wouldn't trust this fraud to sell me a fresh mango_! He looked at Dudley, and he could see that his cousin was thinking along the same lines. Again, he blessed the luck that had had him growing up in Roanapur; a "wretched hive of scum and villainy" it might have been, but it was one of the best schools for survival anybody could ever ask for!

"We'll announce the formation of the Duelling Club, and that Professor Flitwick and you are each sponsoring a team. Then whoever wants can sign up for either team. Can't say any fairer than that, can we?" Dudley smiled ingratiatingly. Nobody who knew Dudley well would trust that smile, but Lockhart took it at face value. Harry hid a grin. For such a world-renowned defeater of the dark, Lockhart was extremely trusting!

Meanwhile, the second part of the Slytherin boys' project kicked into gear. The Slytherin seventh-year boys put together a timeline, posting it on the wall of the boys' shower room. "For some reason," Pucey explained, "we're not sure that the girls can be trusted."

Then the boys started going through Lockhart's floridly-overwritten books with a fine-toothed comb. Every event that they could pinpoint a date for went on the timeline; conflicts soon began to appear, such as times where Lockhart would have had to be in two places at once. All of these were duly noted, along with times where Lockhart claimed to have done the impossible. The impossibilities, such as forcing a werewolf back to human form despite the full moon, were annotated with references to standard works where the true facts were laid out.

The girls knew nothing of this, and Hermione beamed proudly when she saw Harry, Ron, and Dudley all sitting together in the common room, all absorbed in studying Lockhart's books while scribbling copious notes. "See? Studying's not so hard, now is it? I bet that we get the most points of all this year, and you'll all get better grades!"

Luna looked up from her seat beside Dudley, and made as if to say something, but Ron caught her eye and shook his head, signalling her to stay quiet. The blonde girl had very little idea of discretion, saying whatever came into her head, but her housemates were teaching her about the concept. She would not lie, but she had already proven that if she did not choose to talk, no force on Earth could make her say anything.

"Oh, we're learning a lot, Hermione," Harry said. "Balalaika suggested this course of action to us, and we're finding that it pays many dividends!" Hermione nodded. She had come to respect the Russian crime queen in her time at Roanapur, and Harry momentarily felt a twinge at having to humbug his best female friend. He suppressed it, telling himself that having her learn caution this way could save her from a far worse fate than embarassment in her later life.

When the formation of the Dueling Club was announced, along with the names of the team sponsors, the girls erupted in loud squeals. Sure enough, once the rosters were up, Lockhart's team had a clear majority of the girls, including all the Slytherin girls save only Luna. Some of the boys also signed up to learn from Lockhart, and they didn't mind crowing at the boys who joined the other team.

"At our first tournament we'll kick your collective arses!" sneered Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Keeper.

"We look forward to it, Oliver," Luna answered, all quiet dignity. The sight of the Gryffindor boy towering over the diminutive blonde Slytherin aroused her Housemates' protective urges, and several of them stepped forward, led by Dudley Dursley, who put his arm shelteringly around her shoulders. She beamed up at him.

Meanwhile, school went on. After a disastrous incident involving Cornish Pixies, Lockhart confined himself to reading aloud from his books, often calling students up to act out the "exciting" parts with him. Much to his mortification, Harry was a particular favorite of his, and always got cast as whatever poor creature or Dark wizard lost to Lockhart.

"He's jealous of your fame, Harry," Ron said, one evening in the Slytherin boys' dorms. "He hates thinking that anybody but him's going to get attention, so he sets you up as a straw-creature for him to knock over. He thinks that proves something."

"You're right, again, Weasel," Draco Malfoy put in; he'd been going through Holidays with Hags carefully, but had put it down to rest his eyes for a second. "My father says that when he was at an awards banquet at the Ministry, Lockhart managed to upstage both him and the Minister himself!" Draco shook his head. "He was lucky it was in public. My pater doesn't take well to being shoved aside so some preening phony can prance up to the stage first, not one bit he doesn't!"

Much to the surprise of Harry, Ron and Dudley, Draco Malfoy had thrown himself wholeheartedly into the "get rid of Gilderoy Lockhart" campaign, and had done nothing at all to impede matters. He had even written to his father several times for data, and had cheerfully shared the results.

Pucey came in. "Hey, lads, don't forget, we're having tryouts for the Quidditch team. After losing so many players last year, we're short-handed, so we need everybody second-year and older who can fly!" Harry made a mental note of that, and he knew that his chums were doing the same. They did enjoy watching Quidditch, and Flitwick had told them that good fliers were at an advantage in combat.

END Chapter 27


	28. To Slip the Bonds of Earth

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 28

To Slip the Bonds of Earth

by Technomad

Out at the Quidditch pitch, the would-be players were met by Pucey, Flint and the seventh-year Quidditch players. Pucey took the lead, pacing up and down in front of the neophytes like a sergeant inspecting his men. "Right, you lot. Quidditch is a demanding game. Not all of you will be up to playing. Even those of you who are, will be in the reserves, almost for sure, at least at first. However…" he paused, "Quidditch is also some of the best flying training there is!"

Harry, Ron, and Dudley looked at each other and grinned. Harry was one of the best fliers in their year, and Ron wasn't far behind him. Dudley wasn't as naturally skilled as his cousin and friend, but he'd grimly worked to improve, asking the older Slytherins, particularly the Quidditch players, for advice and help. With guidance, and considerable encouragement, he had overcome his relative lack of talent, and now could give his friends a run for their money in the air.

"Oh-kay," said Pucey. "First test is that obstacle course. Fly through it, five times. The faster, the better, but don't skip any obstacles. We want to evaluate your flying."

Harry was off the ground in a second, with Ron and Dudley behind him. Harry found dealing with the obstacles ridiculously easy, and following his lead, Ron and Dudley made it through all five times. Some of the others had trouble, but Draco Malfoy, who had Quidditch ambitions of his own, also made it through. All the while, Pucey and the other seventh-year players watched, conferring among themselves and writing copious notes.

At the end of the obstacle course runs, some of the would-be players were told that their flying skills weren't up to snuff. In some cases, the news was softened with advice on how to bring their skills up to the high level that the Slytherin Quidditch team required. Finally, it was down to Draco, Dudley, Harry, and Ron.

"Now, on to Phase Two," announced Pucey. "In this, we're going to test each of you in every position on the team: Seeker, Keeper, Chaser and Beater. Some of you may…and I cannot emphasize _may_ enough…be good enough to make the first team. Those who don't, but qualify in other ways, will join the Slytherin Reserve team. That way, no matter what, we'll have enough people to play. Can you believe, Gryffindor House doesn't bother with reserves?" He laughed. "What a bunch of maroons!"

"We also believe in team members knowing how to fill other slots than their usual one, should that become necessary," put in Flint.

The first test was for the Seeker position. At first, it involved chasing golf balls that Pucey and his colleagues threw into the air. Ron and Dudley didn't do well, missing almost all of the balls, but Draco and Harry both did splendid jobs. Shortly, a rivalry developed between them, as they competed fiercely to see who could catch the ball most quickly, or from the oddest position.

When Flint and Pucey called things to a halt, Harry was ahead of Draco, but just slightly. The boys came in for perfect landings, both of them pink from exercise and bright-eyed with happiness. The older boys nodded. "Looks like we've a good selection for Seeker. We need a new one. However, that doesn't excuse you two the rest of the tests." Harry and Draco both nodded and took their places with the others.

The next test, for Keeper, involved guarding the goal rings, as the senior Quidditch players tried to score. The first attempts were easy, but as the tests wore on, each testee was harder- and harder-put to keep up. "A real Quidditch game can be pretty intense," Pucey called, amusement in his voice. "In Slytherin, our training is so tough that real games are a relaxing holiday in comparison!"

Harry, Dudley, and Draco were all soaked with sweat and trembling with weariness by the time their tests were done. From the ground, they watched in wonder as Ron kept the seventh-years from scoring, repelling the Quaffle from the rings time after time. When Pucey called the test off, Ron had prevented more goals than the other three combined, easily. He came in for a landing, grinning like a jack o'lantern.

Pucey came over and clapped him on the shoulder. "We may just have a Keeper, here. You might have to compete against our current Keeper for the job, but before you're out of Hogwarts, you'll be on the main team, if what I saw today is a fair sample of your work." Ron looked so happy that Harry thought he'd burst.

"And now for the tests for Beater!" Dudley went first, and while he'd been competent but uninspired at the other positions, he took to Beating with zeal, bashing the Bludgers around with his Beater's bat. As the test went on, targets were set up for him to aim the Bludger at, and after a bit of initial awkwardness, Dudley was hitting the targets with the Bludger easily. Harry was happy; he wanted to be on the team, but he wanted his friends and cousin with him, too!

By this time, they had an audience. Professor Snape was lounging in the stands, ostensibly correcting papers in the bright warm sunshine, but keeping a weather eye on proceedings. A little way away, Professor Lockhart was resplendent in gaudy robes that reminded Harry of one of the more opulent Chinese temples he'd seen in Asia. From Snape's body language, Harry could see that he was not happy to have the posturing Defence professor there, but couldn't find any valid way to order him away.

"Good, Dursley! Now, Malfoy, let's see how you do!" With that, Dudley landed, and Draco took to the air. Harry watched his friend and rival closely. To Harry's eye, Draco lacked the real power that a Beater needed. While he connected with the Bludgers easily enough, he wasn't able to hit them hard enough, or aim their trajectories well enough, to give Dudley any real competition. He heard the elders muttering: "There's talent there, but I don't think that the boy has the strength for Beater."

Harry wasn't surprised. The Slytherin Beaters were mostly in their sixth and seventh years, and had muscle and strength that Draco, in his second year, just didn't have. He thought that Dudley had given their elders a surprise, though. Dudley was the person that the Slytherins in his year generally turned to, when muscle was required.

Finally, Flint had mercy and called Draco back down. "Now, Potter! It's your turn!" Harry threw Pucey and Flint a halfway-serious salute and mounted his broom. He soared into the air, thinking that this was where he belonged…up in the air.

The Bludger came at him, and he batted it away. However, unlike the times that the others had done the same thing, instead of bouncing off in the direction that Harry had hit it, it looped around and came at Harry. He was so surprised that he barely ducked in time, and the iron ball whistled past just over his back, close enough to ruffle his robes. Then it turned and came back again; Harry hit it again, and it came back again.

Harry was worried; he had seen more than enough to know that this was not normal behavior. Again and again, he swatted the Bludger, and again and again it came back, harder every time.

Down on the ground, at first, nobody noticed that anything was really wrong. Then Ron looked up more closely. "Dudley! Draco! It looks like Harry's in trouble!"

Draco looked up, his eyes narrowed. "You're right; I've never seen a Bludger acting that way!" Without waiting for orders from the older Slytherins, the three second-years vaulted onto their brooms and rode to Harry's aid. At first, the older players didn't seem to realize what they were doing, but when they saw what was happening to Harry, they also soared into the sky, Beater bats in hand.

By the time Dudley got to his side, Harry was having trouble; he was already tired from trying to hold off the rogue Bludger, and had been grazed several times. "Dudley!" he gasped. "Thank Buddha! Keep that crazy thing off me!"

Dudley hit the Bludger hard, then moved to shield Harry as best he could, as Ron and Draco, and the other Slytherins, arrived. Between them, they were able to keep the deadly iron ball at bay, but it was apparently getting cleverer and cleverer, and nearly got through their guard more than once.

"I'll help you!" came a call from the ground, and a blast of magic, aimed at the Bludger, hit Harry's broom instead, sending him spinning toward the ground with his broom in flames. He managed to keep some control, but struck the ground hard. The last thing he felt was the mad Bludger thudding into the ground right beside him. Then everything went black.

"_You killed Harry_!" screamed Dudley, stooping on a horrified-looking Lockhart like a falcon on a mouse, his wand out. Right behind him came the other Slytherins, who had instinctively assumed position in an aerial-combat formation, just as they'd been trained to do. Slytherin broom training included a lot of defensive and offensive flying.

"No! I…" Lockhart sheathed his wand, picked up his robes and ran for his life. "Severus! _Help_!"

Before the enraged Slytherins could carry out their goal of lynching Lockhart, a shield sprang into existence between him and them. "Stop right there!" roared Snape, striding onto the field, his black robes billowing around him like great wings. "Get on the ground, now, young men!"

The sight of their House head got through to the furious Slytherins. Reluctantly, they brought their brooms in for a landing, as Dudley and Ron ran to Harry. "He's alive! Professor! Do something!" The others were distracted from their fury at Lockhart, gathering around Harry, who was lying on the grass, unconscious. Beside him, a deep crater showed where the rogue Bludger had managed to bury itself.

"That thing shouldn't be doing what it was doing!" snapped Pucey, gesturing the others back from where the Bludger was. Ron's eyes went wide at how the ground was bulging. The ball had buried itself deep, but was still trying to get at Harry.

Reassured that they were no longer planning to murder him, Lockhart came back. "Oh! I say! Mr. Potter's hurt! Good thing I'm here! I've handled dozens of these cases, as my books explain…" He was rolling up his sleeves and pulling out his wand when he stopped, paling again, as Snape whirled to cover him with his own wand.

"_You_ are not a certified Healer, Professor," Snape purred, his voice like poisoned honey. "As it happens, _I am_. You will _stay back_. Your ill-aimed spell did enough damage, I think." The Slytherins all scowled and fingered their wands, and Lockhart turned slightly green. Snape cast several diagnostic spells. "Concussion, several broken bones, and some internal injuries. This will need Madame Pomfrey's attention, I believe." Snape conjured a stretcher, and gently levitated Harry on to it. "Run ahead and tell Madame Pomfrey that she'll be needed. We can finish these tryouts another time." The Slytherins leaped to obey.

Once they were alone, Lockhart turned to Snape. "Well? Aren't you going to punish them?"

"Punish them? My dear Gilderoy, why ever should I punish them?" Snape's voice was utterly bland as he guided the stretcher forward. "Do get out of the way, dear colleague. And quit wringing your hands."

"They tried to murder me! You saw it!"

"Professor," Snape snarled, suddenly ineffably weary of this posturing dunderhead, "I also saw that you took it upon yourself to shoot Mr. Potter's broom out of the sky! If he was one whit less skilled at flying, he could easily be dead right this minute." Snape smiled a very carnivorous smile. "Think of how that would look to the press! 'Lockhart Kills Boy-Who-Lived!' 'Teacher A Murderer?' and such headlines. Not to mention the Wizengamot and Aurors getting involved. And when the Aurors start snooping, there's no telling what they'll find, is there?"

Lockhart turned very, very pale. Snape wondered just why he was acting that way. Did he have some hidden secret? He made up his mind to take a good long look at his new colleague.

Madame Pomfrey, alerted by an onrush of excited Slytherin boys, came out to see Harry into the infirmary. When she was informed about just what had happened, she gave Snape a piercing look.

"I'll want to know how that happened. Those Bludgers are supposed to be impossible to fiddle!"

Snape nodded. "I'll look into it myself."

"See that you do!" And with that, Snape found himself ejected from the infirmary. Outside, he found Ron Weasley, Dudley Dursley, Draco Malfoy, and the older Slytherin Quidditch players all sitting and looking morose.

"You do understand that you can't go attacking teachers, don't you?" Snape intoned, his voice solemn. The boys all nodded, looking utterly miserable. "For this, I must punish you. Ten points from Slytherin and one night's detention with me."

"Ten points apiece?" asked Pucey.

"No. Ten points for the lot of you. Now, along with you! I've got to report this to the Headmaster and Madame Hooch. They'll want to examine that Bludger!" They _along_ed.

END Chapter 28.


	29. An Unexpected Development

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 29

An Unexpected Development

by Technomad

When Harry got out of the hospital wing, he found his Housemates in a mood for vengeance. At least the males; except for Luna, who resolutely went her own way and thought for herself, the girls continued to believe in Lockhart's innocence and goodwill.

"Harry," Hermione said, in tones appropriate to speaking to someone who wasn't quite bright, "you can't blame Professor Lockhart! I agree, trying to shoot down the Bludger was not the smartest move he could have made, but he didn't intend to shoot you down instead!"

"Doesn't change the fact that he did!" Harry grumbled. He was still aching in several different places from hitting the ground so hard, and in no mood to forgive the posturing Professor.

With his injuries as an incentive, Harry threw himself into the "Discredit Lockhart" operation twice as hard as before. One side effect, he noted with amusement, was that the Slytherin boys' grades in Lockhart's class soared; with their careful, intensive study of the man's works, they were able to anticipate his questions and answer them effortlessly. The jealous looks the girls, and their schoolmates of other Houses, gave them were mere sweeteners.

Meanwhile, the duelling teams were forming up. Flitwick turned out to be an enthusiastic teacher, and his team had the additional benefit of help from Snape. The Potions Master proved to be a skilled, if snarky, combatant. Under their tutelage, Harry's team began to learn very rapidly.

Of course, they kept what they were doing on the QT. In Lockhart's class, Harry and his teammates were careful to appear to be in awe of their famous teacher. Harry even accepted Lockhart's apologies for the "dreadful accident" graciously, while inwardly thinking about how much fun it would be to introduce the ponce to some people he knew back home. Fantasies of watching Lockhart deal with Roanapur, which was not a good town to brag in unless one could back it up, gave him a warm cozy feeling down deep inside.

In the room they'd set aside for themselves, the Duelling Association, as they called themselves, were talking about the things they'd noticed. "You know," offered Pucey, "I'd think that if Lockhart _really_ knows how to force werewolves back to human form, he'd more than deserve his fame. There are quite a few wizards and witches who're forced into poverty and ignominy because they're werewolves. A counter-measure against that would be very useful to Aurors, wouldn't it?"

"Not to mention Healers," said Luna, snugly ensconced under Dudley's protective arm.

"You've got a good point there, little Luna," said Draco. Dudley reached down and beeped her nose, and she giggled. Luna plainly enjoyed being the only girl in a roomful of boys.

One day, Harry, Dudley, Ron, Draco and Luna were all studying together in the Great Hall when they were interrupted. Hermione Granger sat down without waiting for an invitation. "Hullo, you all. Do you mind if I talk with you for a while?" She looked rather uncertain, and Harry remembered guiltily that their common project had given him less time to spend with his friend.

"We've always got time for you, Hermione," Ron reassured her, with a smile. "Just because we're on different teams doesn't mean we can't be friends otherwise. In Quidditch, people from different teams are often good friends, even if only because most teams swap players around a lot and the person you're playing against today may be your teammate down the line."

"Good." With that out of the way, Hermione leaned forward. "I'm really glad to see all of you studying so hard, but have you noticed that Pansy Parkinson is acting awfully weird lately?"

Harry thought about it. Pansy Parkinson was one of his less-favorite Slytherins; she was snobbish, rude to anybody she thought was beneath her, and chased after Draco so hard that it embarrassed the others to watch her. Hermione, Ginny and Luna all said that life in the girls' dorms was less enjoyable because of her presence; she gossiped, tried to turn friends against each other, spread nasty rumours, and generally made herself as much of a misery as possible.

"No, we haven't noticed anything unusual about her, but we don't live in as close contact with her as you do. What is she doing? Being pleasant?" Hermione giggled.

"I wouldn't complain about that! No, she spends a lot of time scribbling in this battered diary she got from somewhere, and snaps at us if we get close to it!"

The boys were all puzzled. "Uh, Hermione, it could be that she just wants to keep whatever she's writing about private," Ron offered. "I don't keep a diary myself, but if I did, I'd be pretty unhappy if someone else made like they wanted to read it without my permission."

"It isn't just that! Although I should point out that Pansy isn't exactly a 'diary person,' if you know what I mean…she's not the introspective type, not at all. She didn't keep a diary our first year here. And she's also become awfully withdrawn. Before, she was into everything, sniffing into everybody's business. She was one of the biggest snoops in Hogwarts! These days, instead of jumping on every bit of interesting gossip there is and spreading it to all and sundry, she acts like she couldn't care less!"

"Maybe she's developing better manners, Hermione," Dudley said.

Hermione gave her male friends an exasperated glare. "Oh, never mind!" she snapped. She got up, all outraged dignity. "I have a _duelling practice_ to go to…with Professor _Lockhart_!" She went toward the door, then turned and smiled a smile that reminded Harry, unpleasantly, of Pansy herself. "Wait till the first tournament! I'm looking forward to wiping the floor with all of you!" The door could not slam, but it did shut behind her very firmly.

The boys, and Luna, looked at each other. After a minute, Luna spoke up. "She does have a point. Pansy's been acting strangely lately."

"She hasn't been all but throwing herself at me," Draco mused. "And that's odd. I mean, last year she was all but wrapping herself in gift-wrap paper."

"Maybe we should keep an eye on her," Luna said. "She's not my favorite person in the world, but I'd feel awful if something was wrong and we didn't notice it in time."

All the boys nodded. Pansy Parkinson would bear watching.

Meanwhile, school went on. Lockhart was looking steadily less assured, since some of the older students, the Ravenclaws in particular, had taken to asking him innocent questions about his exploits. Harry suspected Flitwick as the instigator of this; the diminutive Charms professor had a sneaky streak that appealed to the Slytherin in Harry.

Other teachers found themselves fielding questions about the spells and other things Lockhart had said he'd used. Sometimes, this led to very interesting discussions of spells that were normally not covered, or covered only in a general way, in the normal curriculum.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Mr. Finnegan, potions do have a definite place in a defensive and offensive arsenal. I'm glad you asked that question. Just for starters, any competent combat wizard should be able to brew Healing Potions from scratch, since in the field, they are often needed. We will be covering Healing Potions in greater detail later, but for the present…"

"Yes, dear," smiled Professor Sprout, "plants have many offensive and defensive uses. Mandrakes, for example, can easily be turned against an enemy. Their screams are fatal to unprotected hearers. Of course, the persons using them in this way had best make sure their earmuffs are in place!"

On Halloween, the school was _en fete_ for the big holiday. Decorations were everywhere, and the smell of a wonderful feast drifted through the corridors. Harry was just coming out of the Slytherin dorms when he stiffened.

_"Let me out…let me tear…rip, slaughter, destroy…"_ He held up his hand, and his friends stopped.

"Did you hear that?" Harry tensed, his wand in his hand. Dudley instinctively pulled his wand; years of Roanapur street experience made it an automatic gesture.

"Hear what, mate?" Ron asked, puzzlement in his voice.

"A voice…a voice talking about tearing things up." Harry shivered. Something in the voice had reminded him of times he'd seen Revy Two-Hands in a real rage. Normally, even in a hot gunfight, she seemed to be in good spirits, but there had been a few times when she was really furious. It was times like that that made her someone nobody in Roanapur crossed lightly.

"Listen, cousin," Dudley said, putting a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, "hearing voices that nobody else hears isn't a good sign. If this keeps up, I'd go see Madame Pomfrey if I was you."

"And if you don't…we'll take you there." That was Draco. He was jealous of Harry's fame, but Slytherin solidarity was very strong. Harry looked at the blond pureblood, trying to fathom his mental processes. On the one hand, he detested Hermione Granger's know-it-all ways, but on the other hand, he defended her fiercely when non-Slytherins said anything against her.

"Thanks, you lot. I feel just fine. Probably just my imagination. Come on…we don't want to be late for class! And after classes…"

"We _feast_!" Laughing, the boys ran up the corridor, full of animal spirits and the joy of being alive, young and magical.

Sure enough, the feast was everything Harry had anticipated. Huge pumpkins, much larger than any others Harry or the other non-magically-raised kids had ever seen, had been carved into jack o'lanterns; Harry smiled at the way the firsties would squeal when a jack o'lantern would suddenly snap at them or wink its carved eye. Magic had possibilities for all sorts of fun. He pictured himself doing something like that in Roanapur, and watching people's eyes bug out.

The Slytherin table was a jolly place to be; outside of their dorms and common room, the Slytherins' usual rule was to keep differences among themselves quiet. Hermione was sitting with her oldest Hogwarts friends, between Harry and Ron. Dudley had Luna on one side of him, blandly ignoring the grins this brought from some of their Housemates. Insofar as they could be, what with living in different dorms and being in different years, Dudley and Luna were all but inseparable. Luna loved hearing about Dudley's time in Asia, and Dudley loved telling stories.

The food was everything Harry had hoped for; the house-elves had done a superlatively good job on it. Beside him, Hermione visibly battled with the temptation to load herself up with as much as she could stomach; the girls in general had gone on a diet-and-exercise craze since Lockhart's arrival in the school, and she was no different.

"If you eat this stuff, Hermione, you'll soon be as fat as a rail!" Harry teased her. Hermione turned an interesting shade of pink. Not far away, Luna was tucking in with a hearty appetite. She'd been working on some strenuous charms, and the body demanded a lot of fuel for magic anyway; that was one side of magic that fantasy novels generally didn't bother to explain or go into.

Up at the staff table, Professor Dumbledore stood up, and quiet descended. Harry had learned to listen carefully to what the Headmaster said. His "dotty old coot" act was well-honed, but Harry could sense a mind of steel-trap ruthlessness behind it.

"Now that I have your undivided attention, despite this marvelous meal," Dumbledore began, "I would like to announce that Professors Flitwick and Lockhart will be holding the first Hogwarts Duelling Tournament in one week. It will involve freestyle dueling, non-lethal spells only, and be refereed by our own Professor Snape."

This brought applause from all the tables. Lockhart's proteges grinned at their Housemates, imagining the triumphs they would soon be savoring.

"I hope you boys like the taste of _crow_," Hermione purred. "However, I'll be magnanimous in victory." She and the other girls giggled. Harry thought that at least one good effect of Lockhart's silliness had been to draw Hermione closer to her dorm-mates. From what he could see, Hermione and her roomies were on better terms than they'd ever been. Then he looked around down the table. One face he'd expected to see wasn't there.

"Hermione, where's Pansy?"

Hermione raised a thick dark eyebrow. "She was here just now. She must have nipped off to the loo." Harry shrugged his shoulders and went back to eating. Parkinson's doings were no concern of his.

When the feast came to an end, Harry strolled along with his mates, replete, contented and at peace with the world. Then there was an ungodly shriek from the corridor up ahead of them.

Wands out, they pelted down the corridor, to find themselves confronted by Argus Filch. He was pointing at a furry object hanging from the wall, above foot-high letters that spelled out:

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE!

Harry and Dudley exchanged glances. "As if there wasn't already enough weird stuff going on around this place!" Dudley whispered. Harry nodded. Between crazy sports equipment, egomaniacal professors, House mates acting odd, and now this, he wondered if he'd have been better off looking into an Asian school.

END Chapter 29


	30. Cats and Catastrophes

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 30

Cats and Catastrophes

by Technomad

It took Professor Dumbledore's full authority to calm down the howling Argus Filch, along with a promise that his cat would be restored to full health. Harry and the other Slytherins watched developments.

"What does that mean, written on the wall?" asked Luna. "What's the Chamber of Secrets?"

Harry and Dudley exchanged glances, then shook their heads. Much to Harry's surprise, it was Draco Malfoy that provided the answer.

"It means, Looney, that Salazar Slytherin's secret chamber has been opened! His Heir has come back to purge the school of all who are unworthy to attend!" Everybody stared at him, and several of the senior Slytherins grabbed Draco from behind, one slapping a hand over his mouth.

"When we get you back into our common room, fool, you'll soon learn to hold your tongue when other Houses are present!" snarled Adrian Pucey. Draco squirmed, then took a look into Pucey's eyes and visibly decided that shutting up was a far better idea. Crabbe and Goyle looked, at first, like they wanted to intervene, but the size and number of the sixth- and seventh-year Slytherins surrounding their boss made them decide that this was not the time. The way the other older Slytherins were glaring at him was very ominous. Harry almost felt sorry for the blond poof. Almost.

Once things had broken up, and they were safely back in the Slytherin common room, Draco was dragged off by the older Slytherins. Luna gave the others a wide-eyed look. "So what is all this fuss about, anyway? I mean, Mrs. Norris is a pain and Filch is another…but who'd petrify a cat?"

Hermione gathered the others in their little group into a cozy corner, where there were several sofas and leather-padded chairs. Harry chose a sofa, and rather to his surprise, Ginny Weasley sat down beside him, as Luna did the same with Dudley on the other sofa. The others all chose chairs.

As their resident facts person, Hermione began. "Well…in Hogwarts, a History it is mentioned early on that Salazar Slytherin, our House's founder, differed from the other Houses' founders on whether or not to admit Muggle-born pupils to Hogwarts. He had his reasons; at that time, there was a great deal of misunderstanding and hostility toward magical people among Muggles, and he feared that a Muggle-born might turn against us to side with his Muggle kin."

"I see," Ron said, his eyes narrowing in thought. "And the others disagreed with him, I take it."

"Exactly! Godric, Helga and Rowena all thought that Muggles would be so seduced by magic that they'd happily join the wizard world and forget their origins. And, in most cases, they were proven right. The exceptions…let's just say they were dealt with." Hermione suddenly looked very crafty.

Harry could imagine just how that had gone. He knew that magical people could be very ruthless when they needed or wanted to be; the history of the Goblin Rebellions said as much. Without a good deal of ruthless determination, the wizards could have been exterminated or enslaved by the goblins.

"However, before he left, Salazar Slytherin is said to have created a magically-concealed chamber, deep within the bowels of the castle, in which he left a monster in wait. One day, the Heir of Slytherin would come to the castle, unleash the monster, and kill all the Muggleborns." Hermione snorted. "_As if_ a monster could have survived all these centuries sealed up in a chamber! Someone's probably playing on those old stories for their own reasons."

"Yes, and I have an idea of just who that might be, don't I just?" muttered Dudley, cutting his eyes over to the corner where Draco Malfoy was being dragged back into the common room. The blond boy looked very shaken. "Malfoy prances around as though he were the heir of Merlin; wouldn't being the Heir of Slytherin suit him right down to the ground?"

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Ginny said. "He was with us all through the feast. That kind of lets him out of being the person who did this."

"Yes, but people are coming and going all the time at the feasts," Harry pointed out. "And the 'heir of Slytherin' could just as easily be in another House, couldn't he?" Seeing Hermione begin to raise an eyebrow, Harry hastily added: "Or '_she_?'" Hermione smiled, and Harry knew he'd dodged a bullet.

"We don't have anything like enough information. We don't even know if the chamber exists." Hermione got up. "Until we've got more information, I move we wait and watch. And keep an eye on each other. Last year's little business with the Squirrel isn't something I've forgotten. Just because we're here doesn't mean that hinky things aren't going on." Seeing the gleam in the boys' eyes, she snapped "And I don't mean that, either! You! Gutter! _Out_!" Chuckling, the group broke up.

Over the next few days, Harry's little group stuck as closely together as they could. By common, unspoken consent, they kept a particularly close eye on Luna, since she was the one of them most interested in strange monsters. They formed a regular subject at her father's newspaper. She was also the most trusting of them. Ginny Weasley almost never left the blonde's side, and when he was available, Dudley always had room under his arm for her. Luna, herself, accepted the situation in her usual cheerful way.

Harry wished he had eyes in the back of his head sometimes. He "kept his head on a swivel," as he'd heard Revy recommend once in Roanapur, and both his wand and pistol were close at hand at all times. He also stuck close to Dudley and Ron, and, most of the time, Hermione and the other girls.

They weren't the only ones. The whole school was acting spooked; you almost never saw people by themselves any more, and the Houses tended to separate more from each other. Harry rather regretted this; he privately suspected the Weasley twins of having had a hand in Mrs. Norris' petrification, since they and Mr. Filch had been feuding since their first meeting.

Ron managed to get Percy to talk to them. "Honestly, little brother, I don't think it's really their style, if you know what I mean," Percy said, shaking his head. "Their pranks generally target a specific person, and while they're not above being cruel to an animal, as you know…"

"Yes, I know," Ron said, scowling. Harry made a mental note to ask just what Ron was talking about; this sounded like a bitter old memory.

Percy cleared his throat. "But they were with me for the entire feast, from beginning to end, at the Gryffindor table. I was keeping a particular eye on them, and they didn't leave the table until everybody else did, just before Mrs. Norris was discovered. That's what we call an _alibi_."

Dudley and Harry both nodded. With their experience in Roanapur, they could tell a valid alibi from a false one, and Percy, they knew, was not at all given to lying, or to covering for his prankish younger brothers. "Aye, well, back to square one," Dudley sighed.

Percy gave them a stern look. "If you're trying to find out who did this, best of British to you…but for the gods' sake, be careful!" The Slytherins all nodded, thanked him, and left.

Draco Malfoy had apparently learned a valuable lesson from the talking-to the senior Slytherins had given him; he was keeping a low-ish profile. Harry was inclined to thank Buddha for small mercies, and did not question everybody else's good luck. The girls reported that Pansy Parkinson was also being awfully quiet, which made life in the girls' dorm much more peaceful.

Meanwhile, school life went on. One day, posters went up around the school, in which Gilderoy Lockhart announced that his proteges were ready to challenge Flitwick's students in a friendly duelling contest. Reading the posters, Harry, Ron, Draco, Dudley and Luna suddenly smiled. The smiles they wore would have looked appropriate coming out of a dark forest at night.

Hermione was in full cry, gloating about her inevitable triumphs, along with Lockhart's other partisans. Flitwick smiled and shook his head, counselling his own pupils to keep a low profile.

"Overconfidence is a weakness in a duellist, children," he told them one evening at one of their practices. "No wizard is so powerful that he may not be defeated." Luna cleared her throat in a pointed way, and he added "Or witch, either." Luna gave him a beaming smile, and he smiled back; Luna's smiles were generally contagious. Harry had noticed that Slytherin had become a rather cheerier place since she had arrived. She was never down in the dumps, and could usually find a bright side to any situation.

Dudley beeped Luna's nose, and Luna giggled. "One day you'll be a powerful witch," Dudley predicted. "Maybe as powerful as Professor McGonagall." When consulted on the subject, Flitwick had allowed that while all of the faculty could handle themselves well on the duelling ground, the ones he'd least like to tangle with were, in that order, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape. Hearing their House Head praised that highly filled all the Slytherins present with pride.

"Do you think I could teach a subject at Hogwarts some day?" Luna asked, her eyes wide. "I'd always planned on taking the _Quibbler_ over one day, and hopefully finding the Crumple-Horned Snorkack!"

"Life doesn't always turn out the way you expect, Luna," Ron put in. "Our Mum planned to be an Auror when she was in school; then she met Dad and, well, one thing led to another. They ended up getting married right out of school, and she settled in to…be Mum." Reading between the lines, Harry figured out rather quickly what had happened. He knew that the Aurors didn't allow their trainees to be pregnant, and from the relative haste of their marriage, he wouldn't have been surprised to find that the eager bride had taken seven months to do what took a cow or Countess nine. He smiled to himself. People never changed.

"My own Mum never expected to end up in Asia," Dudley offered. "After Dad died, though, she didn't want to stay in England, and she got a good job offer in Singapore."

"Asia sounds great fun," Luna commented.

Dudley smiled at her. "Maybe someday you'll get to see it!"

A few days later, they were reminded that peril walked the halls of the school. Coming up a corridor, they were confronted by a startling sight. A group of Gryffindors were kneeling or standing around someone who'd apparently been stricken; he was lying on the floor.

When he got a closer look, Harry saw that it was Colin Creevey, a Muggle-born Gryffindor firstie. He knew the younger boy slightly, mainly because Colin had an annoying habit of wanting to take his picture at every opportunity. Not being Lockhart, he tried to avoid the junior _paparazzo_ without hurting his feelings; he didn't have the heart to slap Creevey down. He was hyper-enthusiastic about everything about Hogwarts. Most people were very kind to him, realizing how amazing it all seemed to a boy raised without any inkling that magic was real.

Now he was lying on the corridor floor, stiff and stark, but somehow, still alive. His camera was clutched in his hand, as though he were about to take a picture. Hermione's eyes went wide, and she sniffled. Luna moved closer to Dudley, and Harry found himself with Ginny under his arm. He held her close; she was a pleasant armful.

The Gryffindors were looking at the Slytherins with hostility. One of them, more tactless or bolder than the others, snarled: "You! Your damn old Heir did this!" Several people on both sides pulled their wands, and Harry suddenly felt like he did back in Roanapur, when trouble was about to break out. He drew his own wand, unobtrusively, from its arm sheath.

"Not us! We were in classes!" That was Ron; the redhead was generally the most impulsive of them. Over the chessboard, he turned into an ice-cold calculating machine who could and did routinely wipe the board with his Housemates, but, day-to-day, he was generally the easiest of them to provoke into action. "Why would we want to hurt Colin, anyway?"

"Because he's always stalking Harry Potter! Harry would want to get rid of him!"

Harry sighed, wearily. Gryffindor obtuseness never failed to amaze him. "Look. In the first place, I was in class. I've dozens of people, and Professor Flitwick, who'll swear they saw me there. Even if my Housemates would all lie for me…and, believe me, not all of them love me enough to perjure themselves for me…are you about to call _Flitwick_ a liar?"

That got through to them, and the atmosphere became rather less tense. "Good point. But then, who did this? Who would?"

"Who, indeed, Mr. Johnson?" That was Professor Dumbledore. With Professor McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey in tow, the headmaster surveyed the gathering. "Who would want to harm Mr. Creevey? I am quite sure that Mr. Potter has other ways of making his displeasure known, should he wish to be free of Mr. Creevey's importunities."

Squatting beside Colin, Professor Dumbledore pried the camera out of his cold stiff hands. "Let us see what Mr. Creevey photographed. Perhaps this will give us a clue to whatever has been happening in this school." Before Harry or any other Muggle-raised could stop him, Dumbledore opened the back of the camera.

As it happened, it made no difference. When he opened the camera, a puff of smoke came out, and Harry could see that the film was burned. "My goodness." Dumbledore said, quietly. "Madame Pomfrey, would you please see to it that Mr. Creevey is taken to the hospital wing?"

It was a very quiet group of Slytherins who arrived back at their common room.

END Chapter 30


	31. The Dueling Tournament

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 31

by Technomad

The First Tournament

At last, the time drew near for the first official Hogwarts Dueling Tournament. Professor Flitwick gathered his proteges in his office for some last-minute advice.

"First off, and I cannot emphasise this enough, don't get cocky! You may think that you've got a duel in the bag, but until your opponent is unconscious or surrenders, the game is not over!" Harry nodded, and Dudley looked grim. Both of them had seen more than enough in Roanapur over the years they'd lived there to know that much.

"Second, always bear in mind that spells can have unusual uses. Our Mr. Potter can testify to that." Harry grinned and took a little bow as everybody turned to look at him. Then he remembered that Hermione Granger had been there when they took the troll down, and knew just how it had been done. He reminded himself that while Hermione, like many of the other girls, had been temporarily addled by Gilderoy Lockhart's smile, she was probably the smartest witch in Hogwarts. She had also taken Roanapur completely in her stride, which, along with her accompanying him, Ron, and Dudley on what had turned out to be a hunt for the Philosopher's Stone, argued for her being a dangerous opponent.

"Lastly, what have I always said is a duelist's most important weapon?" Flitwick looked expectantly at his proteges.

Back came the answer from several of them, including Luna, one of the few girls present: "The mind, sir!" Flitwick beamed; he was, after all, Head of Ravenclaw House.

"Now, go out there and make me proud!" With confident smiles, Harry and the other team members stepped out to face their opponents. Someone or other (Harry privately suspected Dudley of having arranged it) had figured out a way to play Wagner's "Entry of the Gods into Valhalla" as they entered the Great Hall, to the cheers of the assembled audience.

The judges of the dueling competition were seated at one end of the hall, where the faculty table normally was. Harry noticed a pretty young woman with purple hair in a rather "punk" style, a tough-looking black wizard, and a grizzled old man with one eye and a flask by his side. In the middle of the judges sat Professor Dumbledore, along with a man in a lime-green bowler hat and green robes, and a tall, elegant blond wizard. They all applauded as Flitwick's team came in to line up on one side of the hall. "Presenting…Filius Flitwick's 'Flitwick's Furies!'" echoed through the hall.

"Aaand now…Gilderoy Lockhart's 'Gilderoy's Gladiators!'" came the announcement. To the tune of Mendelssohn's "War March of the Priests," Lockhart's own pupils came in, two by two, their faces solemn.

The hall went silent. Professor Dumbledore's voice, amplified by a Sonorus charm, could be heard throughout the hall. "Welcome to our first Dueling Association tournament. Allow me to introduce my fellow judges: Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic…" The man in the green robes and hat stood and bowed, to the sound of applause, "Lucius Malfoy, a member of the Board of Governors of this fine school," as the blond wizard stood and waved, acknowledging the crowd's welcome, "Alaistair Moody, Senior Auror," which apparently meant the one-eyed wizard, "Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt," and the black wizard stood and bowed to the crowd, "and, last but never least, one of our newest Aurors, N. Tonks." The young woman with the purple hair gave Dumbledore a rather dirty look, but stood to acknowledge the crowd.

Fudge, as Minister of Magic, took over. "You all know the ground rules. No lethal spells. No Unforgivables. No continuing after an opponent is down and helpless. While we have Healers on call, I hope that they have a boring, uneventful time of it tonight." Professor Snape and Madame Pomfrey both nodded vigorously. Harry grinned. In Roanapur, the maxim was "a bored paramedic is a happy paramedic," and apparently that applied to Healers, too.

"When your opponent is down, or appears unable to continue, you are to look to us judges. If a majority of us turn our thumbs up, that means that you have won. If our thumbs are down, that means that you are to fight on." explained Dumbledore. "Now, let us begin, and I hope that you will all make us, and Hogwarts, proud."

Both teams of duelists turned to face the judges, raised their right hands, and said in unison: "We, who are about to duel, salute you, judges!" Regally, Fudge nodded his acknowledgement, while Lucius Malfoy smiled an enigmatic smile.

With that, the matches began. The contestants had been divided by year, so that a first-year such as Luna wouldn't find herself paired off against a seventh-year. The seventh-years went first, and Harry was dazzled by the spellwork he saw. He could see Hermione, over on Lockhart's side, visibly wishing for a quill and parchment to write notes on.

At the end of the seventh-years' exhibition, the score was slightly in favor of Flitwick's Furies, but it had been by no means a shutout. Then things progressed down the years, with the sixth-years, fifth-years, fourth-years, and third-years showing what they could do. Finally, it was time for the second-years.

Harry had been keeping track of the scores, and Lockhart's team was falling further and further behind. He had heard muttering about the DADA teacher's pupils being not as prepared for the tournament as people had expected, and smiled grimly to himself. _There's a lot more to a real fight than winning _Witch Weekly_'s "Most Charming Smile" award,_ he thought. Lockhart had started the tournament full of confidence, but by this time, he was looking increasingly distressed, for all the world as though his puppy was dying.

The judges announced the next match: "For Flitwick's Furies, Harry Potter of Slytherin. Representing Gilderoy's Gladiators, Hermione Granger of Slytherin!" Harry gave the judges a long, considering look. The matches were ostensibly set by randomly drawing names, one from each team, but he could easily imagine ways for someone or other to fiddle that sort of thing.

There was no time to investigate, though. He walked out into the middle of the hall, as a hush fell and hundreds of eager eyes followed every move he made. From the other side, Hermione stepped forward, her eyes narrowed as she watched him. Harry was reminded of Revy Two-Hand preparing for a gunfight.

Fudge rang a gong, signalling the beginning of the bout. Harry pointed his wand, shouting "_Petrificus Totalus_!" Unfortunately, Hermione knew him fairly well, and had anticipated that opening move. She ducked, firing a Tickling Charm back at him, which nearly incapacitated him until he managed to gasp "_Finite Incantatem_!" Then he had a quick idea, and shot a _Tarantallegra_ at her, followed by the same charm she had used to slick the floor under the troll, the previous year. Dancing helplessly, she was soon on the floor, and Harry finished the duel with an _Incarcerous_, tying her up as neatly as a Christmas present.

He looked up at the judges. Cornelius Fudge's face was unreadable; Lucius Malfoy seemed to be rather amused, and the Aurors were clearly intrigued by his approach. Fudge stood, and held out his hand, his fingers curled in a fist-and raised his thumb. "The victory goes to Harry Potter, of Flitwick's Furies!" The room erupted in cheers, and Harry could hear his teammates chanting his name. It felt good.

Harry pointed his wand. "Finite Incantatem!" Released from his spells, Hermione looked up at him, then slowly got to her feet and rejoined her teammates. As she left, Harry could see her shoulders beginning to shake, and all of a sudden, his victory tasted like ashes and dust in his mouth. He wasn't particularly romantically interested in Hermione, or in anyone else, no matter how much his friends in Roanapur teased him. However, Hermione had always been a firm friend of his, and he hated what he'd had to do to her.

His teammates noticed how he felt. Dudley patted his back, whispering "Don't feel so bad, Harry. She went into this knowing that losing was a possibility, or she should have known." Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy was going out, to face Zacharias Smith of Hufflepuff House, and the attention of the crowd was distracted.

The Malfoy/Smith duel was adjudged a draw after both contestants ended up unable to continue fighting at the same time. When Draco came back, he was faced with some good-natured ribbing. He didn't seem to notice it, which was unusual. Instead, he looked rather uneasy. When asked what was bothering him, he said "My dad is up there, and he expected me to clean Smith's clock for him. I hope he doesn't hold it against me!"

The others were startled at this; from what Harry could see, Zach Smith was one of the best and most talented members of Gilderoy's Gladiators. Slytherin common wisdom was that Hufflepuffs were best not meddled with. Ravenclaw was reasonably friendly, at least when they could be got to notice the world outside their books, while Gryffindors were traditional rivals, and could be pranked and feuded with with relative impunity. Hufflepuff, on the other hand, stuck together; an attack or affront to one was an attack or affront to all, and they specialized in coordination and working together far more than the other Houses. Individually, Hufflepuffs didn't have the flash and fire of Gryffindor, the sheer intellectual brilliance of Ravenclaw, or the cunning and subtlety of Slytherin, but they were no less formidable than other Hogwarts students.

Adrian Pucey patted Draco reassuringly on the back. "If you'd like, I'll have Flitwick have a word with your dad. You did pretty well against that 'Puff. And this is our first tournament. I'm sure we'll all do better next time around." Draco looked at Adrian skeptically, but didn't contradict him.

The final duel of the evening pitted Ginny Weasley against her housemate Luna Lovegood. While Lockhart's team had spent most of the evening trailing in points, they had rallied desperately in their last few matches, and it now came down to these two girls. When Ginny came out, she turned, her arms raised, acknowledging the cheers and whistles from the audience. Fred, George and Percy Weasley were all applauding frantically, their usual differences utterly forgotten in family solidarity. Harry felt a brief stab of envy. When Ron had faced off against Parvati Patil, they had cheered just as hard for him, and rejoiced when he pulled off a victory.

Luna stepped forward, her expression as serene as though she were miles from any such thing as a dueling tournament. Dudley set up a chant: "Lu-na! Lu-na! Lu-na!," and his teammates took up the chant. That penetrated the veil of serenity that Luna generally carried around with her, and she turned, giving Dudley a dazzling smile for a second before facing Ginny and awaiting the signal to begin.

When Fudge rang his gong, Ginny was ready, firing a Bat-Bogey hex at Luna. Luna, however, was quite familiar with Ginny, and had anticipated that move, bending herself over backward and touching the floor behind her feet for a second before bouncing back to her feet and shooting an _Expelliarmus_ at Ginny. Ginny, for her part, was so startled at Luna's flexibility that she didn't dodge Luna's spell in time, and her wand flew from her hand. Luna Petrified Ginny, then turned to face the judges.

Fudge looked down at her impassively, then stood and raised his arm, his thumb up. Beside him, Dumbledore held out his hand with his thumb up, and Lucius Malfoy also gave a thumbs-up, followed by the Aurors. Luna smiled, bowed politely to the judges and the audience, then went over to un-Petrify her friend, helping Ginny to her feet as the crowd roared its approval.

With the tournament at an end, the judges huddled for a minute, before Cornelius Fudge turned and held up his hand for silence. In the sudden echoing quiet, his voice echoed through the Hall: "Gilderoy's Gladiators took fifteen bouts, while Flitwick's Furies took twenty-three. In addition, we notice that Flitwick's Furies used spells in a much more imaginative and creative manner than Gilderoy's Gladiators. It is our decision that Flitwick's Furies are the victors!"

Harry, his teammates, and their supporters in the audience let out a roar of joy. Flitwick found himself grabbed and being carried around the hall on his proteges' shoulders, his face wreathed in smiles. Harry got a glimpse of Snape, and noticed that the saturnine Potions Master also seemed to be very pleased, in his own quiet way. _Hope this leads to better times in Potions_, he thought.

After the hubbub had died down, Harry and his teammates headed for their dorms. When Harry, Ron, Luna and Dudley got into the Slytherin common room, they found that they weren't the first ones there. Hermione was sitting in one of the comfortable leather sofas, crying as though her heart would break.

All three of her friends stared, horrified. Ron was the first to act, rushing across the room and sitting down beside her. "What's the matter? What's wrong?" he asked, concern in his voice. "Are you all right?"

"I-I made a fool of myself! I believed all that hype about Lockhart! Nobody will respect me now!" With that, her voice trailed off into a wordless howl.

Ron gathered her into his arms, as Harry, Dudley and Luna gathered around close. "Hermione! Don't feel so bad! It's not your fault! Lockhart's fooled a lot of people over the years!"

"Yes, Hermione. We think the man's an out-and-out fraud," Luna said, her big silvery eyes shiny with tears at her friend's distress.

That got right through, snapping Hermione out of her distress. "A fraud? But how…I mean, all those books of his…" Harry saw Luna wink quickly at Dudley, who winked back, and his respect for their eccentric-seeming little blonde friend rose. Luna had known just what to say to get through to Hermione!

Dudley explained gently, putting his arm around Luna's shoulders as she nestled against him: "Hermione, one reason we've been studying those books so hard is to find things that are impossible, or incidents where Lockhart claims to have been in two places at one time. We've found quite a few. Would you like to see our chart?"

Wide-eyed, Hermione nodded, sniffling and wiping tears from her face with a hanky that Ron had handed her. She snuggled against Ron as Harry went to get the chart that the Slytherin boys had compiled from their shower room.

"Here it is. Take a look." Hermione peered at the chart, muttering inaudibly to herself, and going paler and paler.

"My God, I think you're right! The man's an arrant fraud! If he really had a cure for werewolves, or a way to force them back into human form, he'd have the Order of Merlin for sure, not to mention the thanks of many werewolves and their families! Instead, he writes these lying books…" Her lips went thin. "That bastard! That utter, conniving, two-faced…_bastard_!"

Ron said: "We asked Snape about him, and Snape's not impressed with him at all, but can't do anything about it. You do know that Snape was a Death Eater briefly, in his youth, don't you?" Hermione shook her head, her eyes wide. "Well, Snape says that for someone with his dodgy rep to accuse a popular hero like Lockhart of lying and being a fraud would just recoil on him; everybody would believe Lockhart, and Snape would be painted as a jealous, malicious liar."

"Well, I won't stand for this! I'll bring that posturing poseur down if it's the last thing I do in this life!" snarled Hermione. "How dare he? How _dare he_?"

"We're already working against him…Slytherin style. We're amassing evidence. Your mission, if you choose to accept it," Harry said, catching a grin from Dudley, who, alone of all of them, knew where that line had come from, "is to stay with his team and make him think you still believe in him. If he trusts you, he might let things slip, and you can come and tell us."

"I'll do that little thing," vowed Hermione.

"If we can prove publicly that he's a fraud, he'll have to go, no matter how many Most-Charming-Smile awards he has," Luna explained. She bent down and took Hermione in her arms. "And don't feel bad! You did very well against Harry, and we're all still your friends!"

At this, Hermione burst into tears and hugged Luna, while Ron patted her back and exchanged helpless looks with the boys.

END Chapter 31


	32. Slytherin House Mobilizes

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 32

by Technomad

Like Hermione, the other Slytherins who had placed their faith in Lockhart were very subdued the next few days. The boys' chart of the inaccuracies and apparent lies to be found in their Defence Professor's works was quietly circulated, but only to those who were clearly disappointed and disillusioned with him. The True Believers were left till later.

"All he ever talked about in practices was the Great Gilderoy Lockhart!" snarled Ginny Weasley. "If it weren't for the older ones knowing something about spells, we'd have wandered in there like so many sheep to the slaughter!" She gave Luna a rueful look. "Not that I'd have stood much chance against you, anyway! What in Merlin's name was that spell you used?"

"Spell?" Luna sat up, looking slightly startled, as she so often did.

"Yes, Luna. _Spell_. The one you used to make yourself so limber." By now everybody was watching. Luna Lovegood did not lie, but she could be marvelously opaque when she wanted to be, and her Housemates had found that getting information from her could be an adventure in itself.

"Oh. _That_." Luna smiled. "That was no spell. That was _yoga_."

"Yoga?" Along with most of the purebloods, Ginny was utterly nonplussed. Meanwhile, Harry, Dudley, and Hermione smiled. They had all seen yogis before, in the Indian district of Roanapur and elsewhere. "What in Merlin's name is 'yoga,' and if it isn't magic, how in the world do you make your skeleton suddenly act like India-rubber?"

"It's not magic at all, Ginny," Luna explained patiently. "It's a spiritual exercise done in coordination with physical exercise. Daddy and I spent a year in India, and I learned it then. It came in very handy…this was just after Mummy died, and I was in a bad place mentally…and I kept it up once I got back to England. There's a yoga instructor in Exeter, and I go in to see him every week when I'm home." By this time, Ginny's eyes were wide, and everybody's attention was fixed on the blonde first-year.

"Well, it looks dead useful," said Ginny. "Can you teach us?" Several others, not all of them on Lockhart's team, made agreeing noises.

Luna looked thoughtful. "I'm just a beginner myself," she said. "I can owl Daddy for some of my books, and maybe we can get an instructor here in Hogwarts."

"And if it makes all girls that flexible, I'm all in favor of it-YEOW!" Pucey broke off, rubbing his shin and glaring angrily at one of the sixth-year girls, who smiled smugly and tucked her wand back into her decolletage with a demure gesture. The other girls grinned approval.

"Good on her," Dudley muttered. "Anybody who gets ideas about Luna…!" Harry looked at his cousin closely. He had known that Luna was sweet on Dudley, but how sweet was Dudley on Luna?

Harry thought for a second about how it would feel to have Luna as a permanent part of their little family. He was surprised to find how much he liked the idea. Luna's calm, unruffled serenity would do them all some good, and she could probably take Roanapur in stride. The thought of how someone like Revy Two-Hands would react to Luna, and vice-versa, made him smile to himself.

The Slytherins were startled when Professor Snape came in. "Ah, I see we're in the midst of the post-mortem on the dueling tournament. My congratulations to all of Flitwick's Furies, and condolences to Gilderoy's Gladiators. Allow me to remind you that dueling-team rivalries are not to be brought within Slytherin. Slytherin House stands united, and, thus, surpasses all foes."

Harry could see the upperclassmen and –women nodding, and agreed silently. As always, Snape's advice was good.

The advent of "mudbloods" and half-bloods into the House had thrown some of their more traditionally-minded Housemates for a loop. However, by this time, Harry, Dudley and Hermione had carved themselves a permanent place in the ranks. Even the stodgiest upholders of tradition were willing to say that they were an exception to the usual strictures about Muggle-born or Muggle-raised witches and wizards. Harry wasn't satisfied with that, but was willing to work with it.

_By the time we're out of here, even the stiffest-necked pureblood supremacists will have to acknowledge they're wrong_, he thought to himself.

Snape was going on: "And I would particularly like to congratulate our Miss Lovegood for clever use of a non-magical skill. Too many magical folk refuse to believe that non-magical methods can be of any use to us. This can lead to disaster." The Potions Master looked very stern. "I do _not_ want to have to explain to any parents how any of my snakes fell to the first random encounter they meet outside this school!"

As Snape swept out, Harry thought about what he had said. Snape was oblique sometimes, as oblique as Luna, but Harry thought he'd figured out what the House Head had meant. No matter which side of the dueling club they were on, Slytherins were expected to share their knowledge with each other.

The Christmas holidays were approaching quickly, and Harry and Dudley weren't sure what to do. Petunia had written to say that she'd have to be staying in Roanapur, which meant that a repeat of last year's fun in London was right out.

"Do you want to sign up to stay here in the castle?" Dudley asked.

"Don't know just yet, Dudley. We might get invited to stay with some of our housemates."

Sure enough, when Ron Weasley heard about them being stuck, he promised to owl his mother. "Mum'd be over the moon to have you there, and Ginny'd be tickled pink. I haven't had a chance to talk to my brothers yet, but I don't think they'd mind much."

"You sure about that?" Dudley looked a little worried. "The twins might bear us a grudge."

"Not after the way you saved their bacon for them," Ron assured his friends. "You may noticed they toned things down considerably after that." He grinned a jack o'lantern grin. "Mum was very pleased at how the two of them calmed down. Their grades perked up as well, which made both the 'rents happy."

Everybody in the school was visibly looking forward to Christmas. Everybody, it seemed, except one person. Hermione and Ginny both reported that Pansy Parkinson was still acting oddly. "She's awfully quiet, and even though she turns in as early as the rest of us do, she never seems like she's had enough sleep."

"That's not good," Ron remarked. "Have you taken her to Madame Pomfrey?"

"She won't go. She spends a lot of time scribbling in some damn diary, and won't talk to us. Not that we miss her…much." Hermione scowled. "At least we're free of her snide comments, gossip and catty behavior in general."

"Well, count your blessings," Harry said. Just then, Ron came in, grinning.

"Hey, you lot, look what Hagrid found!" He had a box in his arms, and he opened it, to reveal a snake curled up in a nest of grass.

They were Slytherins, and none of them were afraid of snakes. Harry reached in, and the snake coiled around his arm. "_Oooh, __who's __a little beauty, then? Who's Daddy's little friend, then_?" He looked up, to find his Housemates all staring at him.

The silence was broken by Adrian Pucey. "Harry…mate…you can speak Parseltongue!"

"What's Parseltongue? What are you talking about?" Harry held up the snake, which wriggled up and flicked its tongue at him. "_Aren't you a love? Do you want to stay and be our friend_?"

The snake hissed. "_You are nice, human, but I would prefer to be free_."

Harry said: "The snake likes us, but would rather be let loose again." Then it struck him. "I can talk to snakes?"

Pucey nodded. "Yes. You have the rare gift of Parseltongue. Salazar Slytherin had it, or so it is said-records from his time are incomplete."

"Yes!" piped up Draco. "And so did He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, the true heir of Slytherin!"

Draco wilted as everybody turned to give him a disapproving glare. In a voice like poisoned honey, Marcus Flint purred: "I _do_ hope I don't need to explain why this little titbit of information stays strictly _in_-house, _do I_, now, Draco?"

Staring at the tall, stern upperclassmen and –women who suddenly were surrounding him, Draco visibly shrank into himself. His last little encounter with his displeased housemates had made an impression, and he clearly didn't want to repeat it. "I'll keep quiet! Honest!"

Flint nodded. "Of course you will." His smile would have looked just right coming out of a dark alley. "Because you know what'll happen to you if you forget and blab, don't you?" Draco nodded frantically.

Just then, a fifth-year ran in, full of news. "Justin Finch-Fletchley was just found petrified! And right beside him, Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost!"

Flint and Pucey grabbed the fifth-year. "Are you sure about that? What could paralyze a ghost?"

The fifth-year shook his head. "Don't know! I came around a corner and found them, with some of the teachers bending over them. And on the wall was written 'The Heir Has Returned! Tremble, Unworthy Ones!'"

"When'd it happen?" Harry narrowed his eyes.

"It can't have been long ago. Justin was in class until half an hour ago," piped up Dudley. "I heard some of the Puffs talking about how they were getting some extra training in Herbology in his year. Sprout expects everybody in her House to be as close to an expert on the subject as she can make them. Neville Longbottom was wishing he could be there, too."

"So everybody here has alibis?" At this, the others got what Harry was driving at. If the petrifications were thought to be the work of the Heir of Slytherin, or someone claiming his mantle, at least, even the thickest people in the school would be taking a long, careful look at Slytherin House. And many of them, Harry thought, might well have things to hide that they wouldn't want brought into the open.

"The interesting question to me is, who or what could petrify a ghost?" That was Hermione. "Anybody have any bright ideas?"

That question got the Slytherins thinking. "Good on you, Hermione," said Millicent Bulstrode. "If we can narrow down what's causing this uproar, we've a better chance at finding it."

"I'd say, myself, that it couldn't be a student. Even we seventh-years aren't that good at magic. Not good enough to do anything to a ghost." Lucian Bole's statement drew many nods from the other upper years. Ghosts were famously all but invulnerable even to the mightiest wizards; otherwise, Peeves would have been blasted to atoms long ago.

"So-we've got another House project. Call it 'Operation Save our Bacon.' If we can find whatever's doing all these things, and prove that nobody in our House had anything to do with them, we're in the clear. Otherwise, it's far from impossible that all our necks will be on the block no matter how innocent we may be." Ron had put it rather bluntly, but that was him-a typical Weasley, through and through, for all that he wore green and silver instead of the more normal red and gold.

Terence Higgs took charge of the project. "Right, you lot! I'll want a division of labor on this. I'll need some studious types,for starters. You know, the sort who might as well have sorted Ravenclaw." Hermione's eyes went wide and she raised her hand instantly, along with some of the other more bookish Slytherins. "Good. Your job is to hit the library. Divvy it up, and find anything you can about powerful Petrifiers. I'll want some upperclassmen and –women on this; they can access the Restricted Section. Anybody on good terms with Flitwick, I'll want to pump him for information; petrification is a charm, after all. If any of you can dig some sense out of Binns, pump him; this may not be the first outbreak.

"The rest of you, just keep in groups and be careful going around corners. If you can, use a mirror to see what's there before you do. We don't want to lose anybody to this. Between this and having that incompetent glory-hound as a DADA teacher, we're going to have enough trouble without our numbers getting whittled down."

"However, if one of us did get petrified, that might help convince the rest of the school that we're innocent." Malfoy had regained his self-confidence; nothing kept him down for very long, it seemed. Abstractly, Harry rather admired his pluck, even while deploring his utter lack of common sense.

"A splendid idea!" Higgs gave Draco a smile. "And since you've thought of it, _you_ can be our first volunteer!"

Draco turned an unappetizing shade of green, as the other second-years, save only his two tame goons, loudly applauded. "What a wonderful notion!" leered Blaise Zabini. "On your stone, we'll have carved the words: 'Here lies Draco Malfoy, as usual. He gave his life to save his House!'"

"We'll all miss you, Draco," Hermione purred, grinning evilly as she ostentatiously patted Draco on the back. "Without you, who'll be our main source of stupid ideas?"

"After you're gone, Draco, who gets your stuff?" asked Dudley. "Shall we auction it off with the money going to your estate, or just raffle it off?" By now, Draco was obviously terrified, staring around as though his Housemates were planning to throw him to whatever danger lay outside their doors that very instant. Whatever he saw in his Housemates' faces didn't reassure him; he whimpered aloud, looking like he wanted to crawl under some furniture and hide.

Harry almost felt sorry for the blond fool, but reflected that if Draco didn't learn to keep his big mouth shut, or at least not to let whatever was in his empty head spill out through it, he was going to end up in the soup no matter what.

On that note, things broke up for the night. Before he went to bed, Harry sat down and wrote a long letter to Aunt Petunia in Roanapur, with Dudley's help. They both knew that the letter would come under Balalaika's eye, and they hoped that the Russian woman would have some good ideas.

END Chapter 32


	33. Christmas at Hogwarts

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 33

Christmas at Hogwarts

by Technomad

A few days later, Ron said: "Oh, by the way, Harry, my brothers and Ginny and I are going to be staying at Hogwarts over Christmas." Harry looked up from where he was revising with Dudley, under Hermione's supervision.

"Not that I'm sorry to hear it, but why?" Harry knew that the Weasleys were a close family, and generally made sure to keep Christmas together.

"Mum and Dad and Bill are off to see Charlie, in Romania, but we didn't want to go along. It's a long trip, and it does cost a lot for all of us to go." Ron blushed. Harry grinned to himself. The new robes that Ron's friends had all chipped in on were safely stowed in the castle, in Snape's storeroom. The head of Slytherin had acquiesced willingly when Hermione had asked him to keep the present where neither Ron nor his siblings could come across it before Christmas.

"I have had concerns about Mr. Weasley's appearance in the past," Snape had said, "and it gratifies me greatly to see that his Housemates are taking steps to deal with the situation, while salving his pride. He can hardly turn away a Christmas present. I have had to have words with Mr. Malfoy and his associates about their habit of denigrating Mr. Weasley. However they may feel about him and his family, he is their Housemate and they should demonstrate Slytherin solidarity with him."

The other presents were also safely hidden away, and all that was left was to wait for the term to end. Finally, the day came when the others left; there had been quite a rush for seats on the Express, since most people were afraid to stay in a castle where people, and ghosts, were being Petrified.

Luna had been sad to go. "I'll be happy to see Daddy again," she'd said, looking up at Dudley with her big silvery-grey eyes, "but I'll miss you!"

Dudley smiled down at the blonde first-year. "Your Daddy misses you. Go on and have a happy Christmas, and don't worry about me and Harry. We'll be all right. This is only our second Christmas in the U.K., and this'll be our first Christmas in Scotland! I'm looking forward to the exotic different things we'll be doing!"

"Happy Christmas, Dudley!" Luna hugged Dudley, stretching up on her tip toes to kiss him. Dudley blushed, but hugged Luna back, as her tears fell on his shirt front. Beside Dudley, Harry, Ron and Hermione all smiled. Luna's innocent directness about such matters charmed Harry. He privately thought that other girls could do with a dose of Luna's lack of subterfudge.

"Oh, look, there _she_ is, the little slapper," came a sneering voice. Harry, Ron, and Hermione all whirled, as Dudley let go of Luna and turned to see who had spoken, his eyes ablaze with sudden fury. "Hogwarts' school broom! Everybody gets a ride, even big Mudblood lumps with no sense of manners!" It was Pansy Parkinson, who seemed to have recovered some of her gumption over the days with no attacks or reports of monsters. She sneered at the friends, her hands on her hips.

Harry felt like taking the nasty bitch down a peg or two; his hand trembled with the effort it took to keep his wand sheathed. Ron went red with fury, Hermione's eyes narrowed, and Dudley stepped forward with murder in his eyes. But before any of them could do anything, Ginny Weasley was whirling Pansy around to deliver a vicious roundhouse slap to her face. Harry's eyes went wide. Ginny knew how to hit so it hurt; she'd hollowed her palm out for maximum effect, and hit hard enough to rock Pansy's head on its hinges.

"You _shut your sewer mouth_, you _slag_! Everybody knows how you run after that inbred pinhead! All Malfoy'd have to do is snap his fingers and you'd be out of your knickers with your legs spread…for him _and_ his two goons!" Pansy went white, then red with rage. Ginny bored in, gripping Pansy by her throat. "You keep your filthy mouth off my friend, you hear? I'm looking forward to the hols! A couple of weeks without you will be Paradise! You make the world _sick_, you know that? _Sick_!"

Pansy stared at Ginny like the redheaded first year had sprouted fangs and horns. "I…I'm not going home this year! I'm staying at Hogwarts!"

"Oh, what a shame," sneered Ginny. "What's the matter? Your parents finally realize what a mistake they made, having you?"

Pansy looked pale, then sick. "No…I just wanted to stay."

"Well, we're staying, too! So watch it, Parkinson! There's more of us than there are of you, even if you manage to get that wanker you _claim_ to love to join in! Mind your 'P's and 'Q's, or by the time school starts again, you'll have a starring role in one of Snape's glass jars, you mutant _cow_!" Pansy looked at Ginny, then at the others, who were all giving her stony stares. What she saw clearly didn't reassure her; she turned and ran, and Harry could hear her first sobs as she left.

Dudley and Harry exchanged glances. "Sheesh," said Dudley, very quietly, in Russian. "She could stand up to anybody this side of Balalaika, I think!"

"I know," Harry answered. "When she's older, it'd be fun to see how she and Revy Two-Hands dealt with each other!"

"What _are_ you two nattering about?" Hermione grumbled. "Is that Russian?"

"Yeah. Sorry. We were just thinking that Ginny'd be able to handle Roanapur. Don't you think she could?" Dudley indicated Ginny, who was being fussed over by her next-older brother, and assuring him that no, Mum didn't know she knew such awful language.

Hermione looked the younger girl over, clearly remembering her time in the Thai pirate port. "You know, I really think she could deal with that town. One thing I noticed while I was there is that shrinking violets don't do well."

"You got that right," Harry said. Meanwhile, Luna had gone on up to Ginny, and the two friends embraced.

"Happy Christmas, Ginny," Luna said, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I'll miss you! It's been such fun having friends!"

"Happy Christmas back to you, Luna," Ginny answered. "You'd better run along if you don't want to miss your train! I'm sure your Daddy wants to see you!"

The castle was rather strange, Harry thought, without its usual population of boisterous students. It was quiet, and to Harry and Dudley alike, rather eerie. They'd been raised in crowded, noisy, chaotic cities, and the relative silence felt unnatural.

The Weasley twins did their best to keep the place lively, but Harry noticed that their monkeyshines did not extend as far as actually pranking him or his Housemates. The demonstration of just what he and Dudley in particular were capable of, and the knowledge that they might have more such lethal surprises in store, kept the twins' ingenuity in bounds. They did hex Percy's badge so that it read "Pinhead," though, instead of "Prefect," though. When Harry pointed it out to Percy, the Gryffindor prefect sighed. 

"Look," he said, "I don't like it myself. But letting them get away with it makes them feel like they've accomplished something, and that way, they don't go on to do other things. Think of it like a 'loss leader' in business. That's when you knowingly sell something at a loss, in the hopes of enticing people into your store so you can sell them other things at a profit."

"Oh. I see. Basically, you let them do this and they feel happy and proud that they've got one over on you. If you took countermeasures, they'd escalate, and before long chaos would reign."

Percy nodded. "Believe me, Harry, I wish things were different. Don't get me wrong; they're my brothers and I love them. But they've always been a team, them against the rest of the world, and there have been a lot of times I wished very hard that either they or I had Sorted differently." Harry understood; Ron had filled him in on how much fun being trapped in the same house with a bored Fred-and-George wasn't. While in some ways, Ron was an odd duck among the Slytherins, pureblood or no, he seemed to be happy away from where the twins could get at him easily when they wanted entertainment.

To everybody's surprise, Luna showed back up one day. "Oh, Daddy got invited to a journalists' conference, and he says such things are no place for a young girl," she said, when asked why she'd come back so soon. Dudley was very glad to see her.

Slytherin itself was peaceful. While Draco Malfoy and his two tame goons were around, they were keeping strictly to themselves. That made it doubly startling when Draco buttonholed Harry, Ron and Dudley one day in the boys' bathroom.

"Have you lot noticed anything odd about Pansy Parkinson lately?" he asked. Draco sounded concerned, and Harry fought the temptation to put his back against a wall and get out his wand. "She's been acting very rum of late."

The three friends looked at each other. "What do you mean, Draco?" Harry noted with amusement that Dudley and Ron were both just as suspicious as he was.

"She used to be after me all the time. Not that I blame her…that old Malfoy charm does have its way with the ladies, if I do say so myself!" Draco preened slightly, and Harry felt a surge of disgust. "But lately, she's taken to hiding away, and she scribbles incessantly in some damn diary or other." Suddenly, Draco looked serious. "I know you don't much like me, and Merlin knows, I'm not too fond of any of you for various reasons. But Pansy's my betrothed, and I'm worried about her. Can you ask the other girls if they know of anything wrong with her? I don't want to go to Snape about this, and I'm not sure what Snape could do. She is a girl, after all, and there are lines he dares not cross."

Harry understood, and, appealed to in that way, could not help but respond. However much he disliked Pansy Parkinson, and distrusted Draco Malfoy, they were his Housemates, and if something was seriously wrong with Pansy Parkinson…that is, other than being Pansy Parkinson, which she, and they, were rather stuck with…he needed to help.

"We'll talk to Ginny. She's sneaky, and she shares a dorm with Parkinson. She can probably find out what the matter is." Ron's promise seemed to reassure Draco, and the four parted on reasonably good terms, which was all Harry asked when dealing with Draco Malfoy.

When approached, Ginny agreed to help out. "Parkinson's been awfully quiet. Malfoy's exactly right; she does spend a lot of time scribbling in some diary or other. The diary may offer us clues. I'll see if I can get hold of it."

"Try to do it without her twigging you've got it, if possible," Ron warned her. "She would probably have an eppy if she knew we had hold of it."

"Can't honestly say I would blame her," Ginny mused. "Can you get me some sleeping potions? One nice thing about the hols, nobody _has to_ be anywhere." Harry recognized the expression on her face; she was coming up with a good solid scheme. He had seen it many times in Roanapur and Hogwarts, on many different people.

Harry didn't know the details of what went down. Ron took the lead in this, since Ginny was his sister. Sure enough, in a couple of days, Ginny appeared in the boys' midst, triumphantly pulling a small leather-bound book from under her robes.

"We've a day at least to look through this thing," she muttered. "Parkinson managed to eat a whole chocolate cake laced with the most powerful sleeping potion I could get; she's out for a good few hours. We'd best not let Snape see us with it; he likely knows who owns it, and he wouldn't be happy."

Harry agreed. Snape would likely be furious with them, although he had had reports that the head of Slytherin had laughed himself sick in private over the Palanquin Incident. Drugging a Housemate to steal her diary, though, was another kettle of fish. In Snape's boots, he'd come down on Slytherins who did that like a ton of bricks. Eagerly, he opened the diary…and was utterly shocked at what he found. "Ginny…did you take the wrong book?"

"What?" Ginny's eyes flared with hurt pride. "Do you doubt my skills?"

"Look at it!" Harry held up the diary, and they all stared in wonder. "It's blank! It's as empty as the inside of Crabbe and Goyles' skulls!" Sure enough, the pages, although rather yellowed with age, were empty of writing.

Dudley took it out of Harry's hands. "Here…here's a name. T.M. Riddle. That sounds familiar." He thought for a second. "I know that name, or should!"

Ron peered at the name. "It does ring a bell with me. Let me see…I've got it, I think! Back last year, Filch had me cleaning a bunch of the old school trophies, and his name was on one of them!"

Soon, the investigators were looking through the case where the old school trophies were kept, gleaming dully in the dim light. Ginny pointed. "There it is! 'Thomas Marvolo Riddle, for Special Services to the School!'" She narrowed her eyes. "This is dated '1943!' What in the world is Parkinson doing with a diary that old?"

It was a good question. Pansy Parkinson came from a family with money; she had only the finest robes, newest books, and best gear, and loved rubbing that fact in the faces of girls from poor families. Ginny had fumed about it more than once.

"And it's got the mark of a Vauxhall Road shop. What would Parkinson be doing with something like that?" As a pureblood from a pureblood family, Pansy was unlikely, at best, to have Muggle-made objects in her possession. Harry had formed the impression that she would be utterly lost in the Muggle world.

Idly, Ron pulled out a quill and began to write. "Hey, cut that out!" snapped Dudley. "We don't want her to know we had this! Leave the book alone!" Ron looked at what he'd written, and his eyes widened.

"It disappeared! It was like it sank into the page!" He turned the book so they could all see it, and sure enough, the page was as blank as Crabbe and Goyle's faces when asked a question in class. Then words in a handwriting none of them recognized appeared:

_Hello. My name is Tom Riddle. Who are you?_

END Chapter 33


	34. Spirits and Christmas

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 34

Spirits and Christmas

by Technomad

Instinctively, Harry reacted with caution. He had no idea who "Tom Riddle" was, or if this entity had any right to that name. He wrote quickly: _My name is Dan Radcliffe. I'm a student at Hogwarts_.

Quickly the answer came back, after the ink had bled into the page: _You are? So am I! I'm in Slytherin. What year is it?_

By now, everybody was crowded around, gawking. Dudley looked questioningly at Harry. "Dan Radcliffe? Where the hell did that come from?"

Harry grinned. "I don't know who or what I'm dealing with here, so I went with the most improbable name I could think of." Everybody snickered.

"Tom" replied: _It's 1943 here. And I am a witness to terrible things. Things that happened at my school. A monster was roaming the halls._

Hermione took the book from Harry's hands. Quickly, she wrote: _My name is Emma Watson, and I'm a student at Hogwarts. If a monster is in the school, we need to know! What happened?_

After a few minutes, "Tom" answered. _If you would like, I can show you, Emma. You __and__ your friends. Would you like that?_

_ Yes._

Very well…and with that, the group of friends found themselves falling what felt like a very long ways, before finding themselves standing near a gargoyle in a hallway, one they recognized as standing outside the door to Dumbledore's office. Beside them stood a boy with his dark hair in a rather old-fashioned cut. Hermione, Ginny and Luna all looked him over appraisingly.

"Not bad," Ginny muttered, licking her lips unconsciously, "not half-bad, not at all. I do like them dark-haired…" Harry shushed her as the boy spoke a password and the gargoyle swung aside, revealing the familiar spiral staircase.

The dark-haired boy went up the stairs quickly, as Harry and his friends, invisible, followed him. They found themselves in a round room lined with books and portraits of wizards and witches, some asleep, most awake. Behind a big desk, an unfamiliar wizard was looking at the boy, and at them, although he showed no reaction; Harry surmised that he couldn't see them either.

"Professor Dippet?" said the boy. Harry's eyes went wide. So this was Professor Dippet, Dumbledore's predecessor as Headmaster, was it?

They discussed the possibility of "Mr. Riddle," as the Headmaster addressed him, staying on at Hogwarts, but apparently that wasn't on due to a monster infesting the school; there had already been at least one death. Riddle inquired into what would happen if the monster or whoever was responsible for the death was caught, and Dippet expressed great interest. Riddle played it very cagey; Harry noted that he was wearing Slytherin colors as well as a prefect's badge, and nodded to himself. Slytherin prefects had to be excellent at dealing with people. The House always contained several factions, and keeping them balanced called for diplomacy and intelligence.

When he was dismissed, Riddle went down the stairs, and then the scene shifted. They were watching a huge person, who seemed familiar to Harry, chivvying a strange creature along. Harry narrowed his eyes. That thing looked like a huge spider; could that somehow be the cause of the attacks?

Riddle appeared, and there was a fight. The creature escaped in the scuffle, but it was clear by the end of things that the huge person's career at Hogwarts was over. When it stopped, Harry looked at his friends.

"So…_Hagrid_ is the person who set the monster loose?" Harry thought about it for a second, then shook his head. He didn't know the groundskeeper well, but the kind-hearted, gentle giant he knew did not equate to someone who'd turn a murderous creature loose on schoolchildren.

"Not bloody likely!" said Dudley. In Roanapur, they had learned to read people; those who didn't learn that in the pirate port tended to end up dead. Dudley, like Harry, had seen more than enough of Hagrid to not believe for a second that the groundskeeper would ever do anything to endanger people. "At least, not deliberately…"

"That thing we saw…that was an Acromantula, if I'm any judge," mused Hermione. "If there was a fatality here, there should be records. I wonder how I could access those? A coroner's report on the corpse would be interesting reading. If nothing else, we can eliminate Acromantulae as the source of the current problems. Those things leave distinct marks."

"Pity Tom Riddle's long gone," Ginny murmured, half to herself. "I liked the view from behind him as he went up and down those stairs." Ron scowled at his sister.

"I hope that damn Acromantula's gone!" Ron snapped. "Merlin! Why did it have to be spiders? We know Hagrid's got a fetish for 'interestin' creatures,' but why spiders?"

"Rubeus Hagrid is a good person, but doesn't have a lot of common sense." That was Luna. Everybody turned and looked at her. "Maybe he set something loose he couldn't control?"

"And maybe we'd better get this damn diary back to Parkinson before she wakes up and notices it's missing. At least we won't have to explain it being written in!" snapped Harry, giving Ron a glare. The redhead blushed. "What in the _world_ were you thinking, mate?"

"I don't know. It was like a compulsion came over me and I couldn't help myself." Harry raised an eyebrow.

"The more I see of this diary, the more I figure Parkinson's welcome to it. Ginny, here it is…can you do the honours?" Ginny gave Harry a snappy, only slightly satiric salute, took the diary and headed back toward the girls' dormitories.

Hermione turned to leave. "Where are you going, Hermione?" asked Luna.

"To the library. _Jane's Creatures of the Magical World_ should have all the information there is on Acromantulae. It's a lot more in-depth than _Fantastic Creatures and Where to Find Them_."

"Well, you're our information and knowledge specialist," decided Harry. "Go to it. If you need anything, let one of us know." He had learned from Balalaika, as well as from others in Roanapur, how important it was to let specialists do what they did best. "Come to it, maybe having Luna help out would be useful. She and her father have seen all sorts of weird creatures, and something might strike her that escapes you."

"Luna? But…" Hermione began, before she saw the expression on Dudley's face. "Oh, all right. Come along, Luna. The library awaits!" Luna bounced along beside Hermione, an anticipatory smile on her face. Luna loved the library, and her Housemates sometimes gently teased her about being a spy from Ravenclaw. The teasing never went beyond very gentle, though. Dudley, and by extension Harry, had made it very clear that whoever took the teasing beyond the gentle stage would answer to them. Nobody in Slytherin, even the seventh-years, was too eager to tangle with people who had dealt with trolls as handily, and fatally, as the two boys from Roanapur had done their first year.

Ginny apparently was successful in slipping the diary back; at least they didn't have an outraged Pansy Parkinson on their trail, howling about her diary. Harry wondered what Snape would have done had he found out. He rather imagined that detentions would have been the least of it.

Dudley agreed. "Do you remember last year?" He shuddered. "The _critiques_! The _sarcasm_! The _satire_!" He grinned. "Rather like having to face up to Balalaika and confess that you've screwed her plans up!"

"I think he actually was impressed, he just didn't want to show it," mused Harry. "He did say that he hadn't expected a bunch of first-years to blast right past things intended to slow down or stop a full-grown wizard or witch."

"That's true," Dudley nodded. "But the way he put it! 'We created those barriers to entangle or stop the most cunning, intelligent wizards in the world, Mr. Dursley," he intoned, in an excellent imitation of their House Head's resonant voice. "Pity we didn't think to make them _dunderhead-proof_!"

From a hidden passage nearby, Snape smiled to himself. His Snakes were truly turning out to be a group of House legends in the making! He had been very impressed with their prowess in their first year, and it had taken all his effort not to break out in a smile as he went over what had happened with them. Still, he had to keep up his façade.

The Dark Lord was out there, and would be coming back. Snape had never in a thousand years expected the Boy-Who-Lived to be Sorted into his house, but since Harry Potter was there, he, Severus Snape, would see to it that he was trained and readied for the inevitable confrontation.

_No Slytherin shall fall due to lack of effort on the part of his or her teachers!_ That had been the secret motto of Slytherin House Heads since the founding of Hogwarts, and he would not shrink from doing what needed doing. Having such wonderful raw material to work with helped a lot, of course.

Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley were always chattering on about the town they'd been raised in, and Snape was privately fascinated with what they'd said. They spoke of the woman who employed them with a mixture of respect, awe and honest affection that made her sound very like a person he'd like to meet. He wondered if this "Balalaika" person was single, and if so, whether she liked dark-haired wizards.

But they were not the whole story. He had also not expected for a second to get any Weasleys, but now that he had them, he was very happy to have them. He got along with Ron and Ginny much better than with their pestilential twin older brothers. He routinely listened in on dorm-room conversations, at least on the boys' side. He was a stickler for propriety and would only enter the girls' dorms if there was a declared emergency, but there were portraits there that reported to him.

Snape couldn't blame the two youngest Weasleys for wanting to get away from Fred and George, not for one minute he couldn't! He detested both of the twins, and was waiting for the day when one of their pranks went badly wrong enough to force their expulsion from the school. It did not surprise him that their younger siblings were happy to be away from their shenanigans. Snape rather pitied poor McGonagall for having to put up with what he privately called "the two-headed menace" in her House.

And Miss Lovegood was yet another he hadn't expected to get. Her father and mother had been Ravenclaws, and Miss Lovegood seemed to be too dreamy to do anything but go with the flow and end up in her parents' House. That was not necessarily the best place for someone like her; intelligence and great learning did not necessarily equate to kindness, particularly to an odd duck like Miss Lovegood. He had noticed the bond growing between her and Dudley Dursley, and approved completely. So did the other teachers; even the stern Minerva McGonagall had admitted that it was "sweet" the way Dudley always looked out for Luna, and the way that Luna trusted Dudley implicitly.

At this age, there wasn't much to worry about, but if it went on, he would have to take both Mr. Dursley and Miss Lovegood down to Madam Pomfrey to make sure that they were fitted with Contraception Charms. For all her spaciness, Miss Lovegood was one of the finest students in her year, and Snape did not intend to lose her to anything before she swept the NEWTs for his House, proving Slytherin superiority yet again!

Contraception Charms were routinely fitted on all students during their start-of-year appointments with Madame Pomfrey at the beginning of their third years, but there had been cases where it had been done sooner. Young people were full of hormones, and did not think far ahead.


	35. Tournaments and Troubles

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 35

by Technomad

After the Christmas holidays, school life resumed. Classes went on, and so did extra-curricular projects, including the one to discredit Gilderoy Lockhart.

Once she had been brought on board, Hermione brought her ferocious intelligence and gift for research to bear, systematizing a lot of the raw data the boys had collected. The idea that she had been bamboozled by a pretty smile and a bunch of falsified books seemed to infuriate her.

"She's taking this awfully personally," remarked Dudley to Ron, watching Hermione methodically correlating data from Lockhart's books, comparing it with other sources on some of the same menaces that Lockhart claimed to have put an end to.

"She's brilliant. Brilliant, scary, and one-of-a-kind." Ron paused as Hermione, who had overheard him, looked up and gave him a brilliant smile. When she turned back to her books, Ron turned to Dudley, who was giving him a knowing look. Ron had an expression on his face like he'd just taken an electric shock.

"Mate," Dudley murmured, "I think you may have made a conquest." He grinned a very male grin. "I know the feeling. There's nothing like it in the world, is there?"

"Yeah," muttered Ron, who was still looking a bit dazed. As they moved away, though, he began to smile.

There was another dueling tournament scheduled, and both Gilderoy's Gladiators and Flitwick's Furies were busily practicing, working out new and unexpected moves to use on their opponents.

"The problem with planning _everything_, you see, is that the enemy has plans too," said Flitwick one evening at the end of a practice session. "And those plans do not include handing you the victory on a plate."

"So you're saying that overplanning is as bad as not being prepared?" asked Harry. This struck him as slightly blasphemous; Balalaika had always emphasized the importance of preparation before a battle.

"Try to have contingency plans, but don't be so attached to them as to stick to them in situations where they're plainly not working. Above all, be flexible and if you spot a weakness in the other side, take full advantage of it." Harry and Dudley nodded to each other. This struck them as eminently sensible.

The tournament was held, as the previous one had been, in the Great Hall. This time the entire Wizarding press had sent representatives. Harry smiled to see Luna running to embrace her father, who was wearing some obscenely garish robes and a snap-brim fedora with a "Press" card stuck in the hatband.

When Luna rejoined her friends, she was burbling with excitement. "Daddy's so happy to see me in this! He's really proud and pleased that I did so well last time around!" Suddenly it was like a cloud had crossed the sun. "I hope I do as well this time, too. I wouldn't want to have Daddy ashamed of me!"

"I don't think your Daddy would ever be ashamed of _you_, Luna," Dudley reassured the blonde. She looked up at Dudley, her big silvery eyes full of love and utter trust, before reaching out to embrace him, resting her head on his chest. Dudley wrapped her in his arms and held her close, his eyes daring anybody to say one word against it. Nobody did, though. The boys all smiled; they had collectively adopted the wispy first-year as a surrogate little sister, and they quietly looked out for her welfare.

The strains of Wagner reached in where the team was waiting, and Harry muttered: "Showtime, everybody!" as they marched out into the Great Hall, to the sound of loud cheering from the spectators. Harry felt a little like what he imagined a professional athlete would feel like, and he found that he liked the feeling. Out here, he wasn't "The Boy Who Lived," or any great celebrity. Out on the dueling pitch, it was down to his skill and speed against his opponent.

Professor Dumbledore was presiding again, but this time, Cornelius Fudge was nowhere to be seen, and neither was the scarred Auror, Alastor Moody. The other judges were the same as last time, and as Harry lined up with the others to salute them, he would have sworn that the girl with the strangely-colored hair gave him a distinct wink.

When the tournament was finally over, Flitwick's Furies staggered off to their respective common rooms, along with Gilderoy's Gladiators. The tournament had been a close-run thing this time, and the outcome had been in doubt up to the very last duel.

"Man alive, I'm sleepy!" groaned Ron. Daphne Greengrass, his opponent, had hit him with a wickedly strong Morpheus Charm, and his panicked Shield Charm had not protected him as thoroughly as it would have had he been less rattled. "Ginny did well, though." Even through his weariness, his pride in his baby sister shone through, lighting him up from within like a jack-o-lantern.

"You won't have to worry about her, at least," Dudley reassured Ron, patting his friend on the shoulder. "She really wiped the floor with Harper! Poor Harper…he was in 'way over his head! We'll have to step up his training, I think." Dudley shook his head.

"Yeah," said Harry. He had faced off with Zach Smith, and the Hufflepuff had turned out to be a diabolically ingenious opponent, using spells in ways that Harry had never thought of.

The door to the Slytherin common room opened, and Hermione Granger stepped in, her head high and pride in her eyes. She had squared off against Anthony Goldstein of Ravenclaw, and had systematically clobbered him; when the judges had ruled that the duel was over, it was as much out of mercy as anything else. "Well, boys, I'm back. Getting ready for the post-mortems?"

"Poor Anthony's lucky he doesn't need a real post-mortem! You stomped him good!" Draco said, his tone full of respect. Harry had to agree; he had seldom seen Hermione in finer fighting form. He was privately quite glad that he had not been the target of her fury.

"You got something against Goldstein?" asked Ron, solicitously. "Did he say something mean to you? Did he do something mean to you?" Goldstein was one of the first non-Slytherins to join Flitwick's Furies, and his teammates had learned to respect his intelligence and versatility.

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously. "That damn Eagle was bragging about how many OWLs and NEWTs his House scores, and went out of his way to sneer at us," she hissed. "He was talking with some of his friends in the library, and didn't see me there in the stacks."

"Oh." At that, everybody shut up. In Slytherin, it was accepted practice to take advantage of every bit of information, and how one came by such information was of no importance. "He got a bit overweening, did he?"

"Yes, he did! I nearly came charging out to confront him, but then I remembered the dueling contest, and held my peace. I was hoping to square off with him, and I guess I taught him to respect the green-and-white, didn't I just?"

"You did that," said Ron, putting his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "You may be on the other team, but in here, we're all Snakes together, and let me tell you, I was really proud of you!" Hermione beamed, and leaned closer to Ron, who held her a little more tightly. Harry fought to suppress a smile.

Ron's new robes had done a lot for his self-image, it seemed. He had always been unhappy about his family's relative poverty, and when group pictures were taken, made sure to stand well in the back so that only his head was visible above his friends' shoulders.

Percy had commented very approvingly on Ron's gift. Meeting the boys from Roanapur in a corridor, he said: "I'd like to thank you for what you did for my little brother Ron. He does get sick of hand-me-downs; we had some very lean years when he was little and even food was a little scarce."

"That would explain why he wolfs his food so frantically," said Harry, as Dudley nodded. They had both seen people in Roanapur with poverty in their pasts who would leap on any food offered them, even if they were well-fed and secure. Early deprivation left lasting habits that took a great deal of time and effort to delete.

"That, and having to share a table with Fred and George." Percy's expression was rather grim. "Mum's health was bad for quite a while after she had Ginny, and while she was unable to eat with us, the twins took to grabbing Ron's food away from him. The twins were running absolutely wild, and I couldn't keep them under control at all. Dad wasn't around much then; he had a lot of stuff he had to do at all hours. Ron was nearly starved, poor thing, before Mrs. Lovegood stepped in to help out. She was a wonderful lady, and she may have saved Ron's life."

"Was she like Luna?" asked Dudley curiously.

"Very like. I'm glad to see you boys have taken Luna under your wings. After her mother died, her father got to be stranger and stranger, and while Mum was always glad to have her, and Ginny welcomed her when she could come, her Dad _would_ insist on dragging her with him all over the place."

"She's said that after her Mummy died, she and her Daddy were all they had. From things she's said, she had to more-or-less step up to the plate and take care of things in their home, since her Daddy wouldn't." Dudley looked troubled. "No nine-year-old should have to do that, should they?"

"So they shouldn't," Percy agreed. "And I'm very glad that you're so concerned for her well-being. You _do_ realize that Bill, Charlie and I would be most displeased if you ever abused her trust, don't you?" The room's temperature seemed to drop precipitously, and Percy's expression was suddenly very like a Roanapur boss delivering a warning. His voice was soft and gentle, but there was a distinct edge to it, and Harry remembered that his brothers worked with dragons and goblins, neither of which was the safest thing to do in the world.

"You needn't worry about us, Percy. Dudley'd never harm Luna, and neither would I. Slytherin takes a dim view of House members who hurt other Slytherins." And that was nothing but the simple truth. Snape would come down on anybody who deliberately hurt another Slytherin like a ton of bricks, and that would be a preliminary to what the sixth- and seventh-years would likely do. Slytherin saw itself as apart from the other Houses, and able, at seventh-and-last, to only depend on itself. Traitors and backbiters in the ranks were dealt with swiftly and severely.

Not to mention what the girls would do to anybody who harmed one of their number. They had a solidarity among themselves that men didn't seem to. And _then _there would be having to face Aunt Petunia _and_ Balalaika…no. Harry shrank from that vision. "_You would not __like__ the harbor bottom; you meet the __nastiest__ people there,_" echoed in his mind, in Balalaika's soft contralto with its slight Russian accent.

"We were both brought up to be gentlemen," Harry assured Percy, as Dudley nodded agreement.

Percy smiled broadly. "Good. Then I needn't worry about my little sister, either!" Just then, a girl's voice called, and Percy turned. "I'll be with you in a minute, Penny!" he answered, and then he was gone.

Dudley and Harry looked at each other. "What was that about Ginny, Harry?" asked Dudley.

Harry spread his hands and shrugged. "Beats the daylights out of me, Dudley. I'd guess he wants us to keep an eye on her and keep her safe. What else could he mean?" The bell rang to signal dinner. "Come on! Let's race to the Great Hall!" Laughing and shouting, the cousins ran down the corridor, happy to be alive, together, magical and at Hogwarts.

However, things were by no means perfect. In the middle of the meal, Filch burst in and whispereed in Dumbledore's ear. The headmaster paled, and then stood. "I have an announcement to make," he intoned, as conversation went silent. "I regret to announce that Mr. Percy Weasley and Miss Penny Clearwater have fallen victim to petrification." Ron went white at the news, and over at the Gryffindor table, Harry was interested to note that both twins looked stricken.

The headmaster went on: "They have been removed to the infirmary, and Madame Pomfrey assures me that when the current crop of mandrakes are ready to be harvested, she will be able to revive them and all the other unfortunates who have been petrified. That is all." He sat back down, and after a minute or two, conversation resumed.

Hermione leaned closer and muttered: "I've come up with some things you need to know. Meet me in the common room after dinner." Harry, Dudley, Ron, Ginny and Luna all nodded. Then they tucked back into their delicious food. Watching Ron stuff himself frantically, Harry felt a twinge of pity. He had never been stinted and never had to go short, much less worry about his food being stolen from him!

END Chapter 35


	36. The Girl in the Loo

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 36

The Girl in the Loo

by Technomad

A few days later, Hermione came up to Harry and the boys. "Luna and I had an idea," she said. Beside her, Luna blinked owlishly, before giving Dudley one of her sweet smiles. She put down a big stack of books. Harry smiled to himself, thinking that the Slytherins' joke about Luna being a Ravenclaw infiltrator had a lot of point to it. For that matter, there were times when he wondered how Hermione would have done in the house of the Eagle.

"What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked. He, along with the rest of Slytherin House, had long since learned to respect Hermione Granger's brain. "Is it about Lockhart?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "No, but I haven't forgotten him…that damned fraud!" Hermione had taken the exposure of Lockhart's lies very personally, and had done a lot, all by herself, to put together a damning indictment of the man. Very soon, the "Get Lockhart" group planned to contact the governors of the school and the media, and demand an explanation of the many lacunae, misstatements of known facts, and other damning things they had dug out of Lockhart's books.

"This is about whatever's been paralyzing people," Luna said. At that, all the boys, even Draco, sat up and dropped whatever else they'd been doing. The unknown threat in the school was something that affected all of them; any of them, they knew, could have just as easily been victimized as the unfortunates lying in the infirmary.

"I remembered hearing from Daddy that something of the sort had happened before," Luna went on. "So I owled him, and he sent me a bunch of interesting things. Apparently in the 1940s there were some unexplained events, ending with the death of a girl. The school announced that the person responsible had been expelled, and things quieted down after that."

"The death of a girl?" Harry's eyebrows went up, and Dudley gave Luna a sharp look. "You're saying that someone caused a girl's death, and all the authorities did was to _expel_ him?" Hermione and Ginny both drew in breaths, and Dudley hastily added "Or _her_?" The girls visibly subsided, and Harry gave his cousin a quick wink. They both knew they'd just dodged a bullet.

Actually, on second thought, Harry thought that the girls had a point. They couldn't eliminate anybody from suspicion merely because she was female. He remembered his years in Roanapur, and suppressed a shudder at how stupid it would be to blow off Balalaika, or Revy Two-Hands, or a lot of other people he knew at home, merely because they were female. And magic was a great equalizer, wasn't it?

"I went through the Daily Prophet from those years, and the only death at Hogwarts in the 'In Memoriam' column was a girl named Myrtle Hart. She died 'of unknown causes' in 1943." Hermione pulled out some papers she had made notes on. "There've actually been very few deaths here over the years, which surprised me. Take a bunch of nutty kids, add magic, and you've a recipe for instant disaster."

"That's partly because we magicals are harder to kill than Muggles seem to be," Ron explained. "At Quidditch matches, I've seen people survive and walk away almost unscathed from falls that my dad says would kill Muggles dead." Hermione's eyes went wide. "Also, if someone's alive at all, our Healers can almost always bring him or her back to full health. Muggle 'doctors,'" he shuddered, "cut people open! Barbaric!" He and Draco both shuddered; they were on opposite sides of many issues, but they were both purebloods, raised within the magical world exclusively.

Harry could see Luna's eyes gleaming with curiosity, and moved to keep things on track. "So finding out what killed this Myrtle Hart person sounds like the next step. Anybody have any bright ideas?"

They all looked at each other rather owlishly. "I could owl my pater," Draco offered. "He's on the board of governors, and would likely know about what's been going on around here."

"We could ask some of the older teachers," Hermione said. "Maybe some of them were here, either as students or as teachers. They might remember something."

"What about the ghosts?" piped up Luna. "Quite a few of them have been here for centuries, and I bet they're worried too. Nearly Headless Nick was a ghost, after all!"

"All good ideas," Harry opined. "Let's attack the problem from all those angles, and one way or another, we'll find a solution. I have faith in us, people. Between us, we've got enough brainpower and cunning to deal with anything. This monster, or whatever it is, doesn't stand a chance against us!" Right then, the bell rang and they got up to go to class.

Over the next few days, they continued their investigations. By common consent, they didn't approach Lockhart. The man was too young to have been at Hogwarts during the last outbreak of trouble, and they had all lost faith in him as anything but a walking advertisement for hair-care products. The other teachers, on the other hand, were sometimes informative.

"Yes, Miss Granger," said McGonagall, "there was a sad case in 1943. The poor little girl was found dead in a ladies' WC down near the dungeons. Hagrid was blamed for the death…he'd apparently been trying to raise an Acromantula, of all awful things…and expelled. I was against the expulsion, but I was only a student in those days myself. I'm glad you've decided to raise this case back up. I've meant to try investigating myself, but my schedule…"

"A monster in the school? Yes, there was one. Now, back to the Goblin Rebellion of 1486…" was as much as they could get out of Binns. As it turned out, Flitwick and the others were unable to say anything, since they had not been at Hogwarts in 1943.

Hermione owled away to the Ministry for death records for Myrtle Hart. When she got them, she and the others went over them carefully. "This does look like whatever we've got now, only more powerful, doesn't it?" commented Dudley.

_The body is that of an adolescent female, well-fed and generally healthy_, read the coroner's report. _Her height is 5'5", her weight is 9 ½ stone, and the cause of death is undetermined. There are no marks on the body. From what diagnostic spells can tell us, her whole body just seized up and stopped, all at once_.

"I wish we could have had a look at the body ourselves," mused Harry. Dudley nodded. Their friends stared at them, aghast.

"How could you wish for such an awful thing, Harry?" gasped Hermione. Then she remembered. "Oh, yeah…_Roanapur_."

Dudley and Harry both gave Hermione long looks. "Wouldn't be the first corpse we've seen, nor would it be the last, if we stay in that town," Dudley remarked. "Besides, corpses are harmless. Unpleasant, to be sure, but sometimes it's necessary to examine them to find out what happened. You get used to it."

"You mean Balalaika _lets you_…" Hermione turned pale, and put her hand over her mouth.

"Not as such," Harry explained. "But sometimes, we've seen Sawyer the Cleaner doing her thing. She disposes of bodies for the Roanapur mobs and once or twice we were the nearest Hotel Moscow people when she needed to confirm that the bodies in question were the ones Hotel Moscow wanted to be shed of."

By now, most of the others were turning various shades of green, and Harry grinned to himself. They were probably picturing "Sawyer the Cleaner" as an awe-inspiring monster, and he thought they'd faint dead away if they came face-to-face with the rather sweet-natured, mute young lady who went by that name. He wondered passingly if magic could restore Sawyer's voice.

Draco reported, a day later, that he'd heard from his father. "Pater says that he does remember the case. He says that not much was done, since the girl who died was a Mudblood…those are _his_ words, not mine!" he added hastily, seeing the cold light in Hermione's and Dudley's eyes. Peering at the letter, he went on: "He says that the death was blamed on Hagrid, but that there wasn't much evidence to really convict him, so Hagrid was let off with expulsion from school."

"Why would they expel Hagrid, if there wasn't much evidence against him?" wondered Ginny. "They generally don't like to expel people from here. If for no other reason, they're afraid that expelled pupils would make a dandy place for Dark Lord wanna-bes and other such people to recruit. Here, they can keep an eye on us, at least."

"Good question, that," mused Hermione. "Hagrid's awfully big…is he all-human? If he's part giant, that might account for them suspecting him, even over-and-above his lack of common sense about pets." They all nodded ruefully. The groundskeeper was almost impossible to damage, and tended, in consequence, to think of creatures most normal wizards regarded as monstrous threats as harmless pets. The previous year, he'd been caught trying to raise a dragon on Hogwarts grounds, and one of Ron's brothers had had to take it to the reserve in Romania.

"If they thought it was an acromantula, they must have been drinking," Draco pointed out. "Look, you…it says clearly that there were no marks on the skin!" He pulled out a copy of Jane's Magical Beasts. "It says here that 'Acromantulae kill by biting, injecting a neurotoxin that paralyzes their prey so that they may wrap the creature in silk and devour it at their leisure.' There was no sign of a bite, and I'd bet longish odds that there was no spider silk anywhere near!"

"Someone might have pointed them in Hagrid's direction," Ron said. "Someone they trusted…"

A day or so later, Luna came in with a big grin on her face. "Guess what, people?" she asked. "I think I'm onto something!"

"And what is that, little Luna-moth?" asked Dudley. She scooted over to where he was sitting on one of the leather-covered sofas, and he budged over to make room for her beside him. She sat down beside him and snuggled up, and he put his arm over her shoulder. Harry smiled to himself, and he noticed that the girls were also pleased.

"Well, we did say that the ghosts might know something…" Luna began, and Harry, along with the others who were in on the investigation project, leaned forward. "So I went and found the Bloody Baron, and he told me that the girl who died back in 1943 is one of the Hogwarts ghosts!" She beamed at her flabbergasted friends. "She haunts the girls' loo down here in the dungeons, as a matter of fact!"

Hermione and Ginny both looked chagrined. "My God! You mean Moaning Myrtle's the person whose death we're trying to research?" gasped Ginny.

"Who or what is Moaning Myrtle?" asked Dudley.

"She's this dreadfully unpleasant ghost who mainly hangs out in the women's WC down here," Hermione explained. "She's one reason why we avoid the place; it's much pleasanter when you have a call of nature to not have to listen to her sobbing and complaining." All the boys blushed.

"Does she have to stay there, or can she move around?" asked Harry.

Luna looked very thoughtful. "Unless she's different from the other Hogwarts ghosts, she can go pretty much where she pleases. I've heard Nearly Headless Nick grumbling about not being able to join the Headless Hunt, which is not based here."

"Can you get her here to talk to us?" asked Ron.

"Myrtle doesn't like me much, I'm afraid," Luna confessed, looking sad. "But the Bloody Baron does…and he's one ghost that the others are afraid of! I bet if I ask him he'd be able to get her in here, whether she wants to come or not!"

"And so I shall, young Luna!" came a voice from nowhere. Everybody started. "Oh! I forgot I was invisible! Do please forgive me!" The Bloody Baron appeared, standing behind the sofa where Dudley and Luna were snuggled up. "Would you like me to invite her here to talk to you now?"

"Please do, my lord," said Draco. The boys all bowed and the girls who were standing curtsied; the Baron was normally fairly nice to Slytherins, but he did like his courtesies. The Baron bowed back and walked out through the wall.

Very shortly afterward, he was back, with a ghost Harry didn't recognize. The other ghost was objecting loudly to the proceedings, probably because the Baron had her arm twisted up between her shoulderblades. "Owwww! Even after I'm dead people pick on me! Owwww!"

Harry stepped forward. "Myrtle Hart?" At the mention of her full name, the ghost focused on Harry, forgetting her arm, which the Baron released. "Please allow me to introduce myself. I'm Harry Potter, and these are my friends," sweeping an arm around to include everybody, "Dudley Dursley, my cousin, Ron and Ginny Weasley, Luna Lovegood, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger. We want to talk to you about how you came to die, since we think that whatever killed you is back."

(_Author's note: I was unable to find a last name for Myrtle, so I just made one up_.)


	37. Myrtle's Tale

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 37

Myrtle's Tale

by Technomad

Moaning Myrtle looked hugely put-upon for a second, before she visibly realized that she now had far more of an audience than she usually got in her lonely bathroom. Swelling up with importance, she launched into her story.

"Well…I was sitting there in that loo to cry because Olive Hornby had been teasing me about my glasses. Then, I heard something big moving around outside, and I heard a voice outside, and it was a _boy's_ voice!" At that, everybody looked at each other. "I leaned out to tell him to use his own bathroom, and I saw a huge glowing pair of eyes staring at me…and I _died_!" She managed to look both hangdog and triumphant. "I felt my body seize up, and I floated up and out of it, toward a great light…but I turned back, back to Hogwarts. I was going to get back at Olive Hornby! Oh, I made her regret teasing me about my glasses!"

Harry felt a moment's unexpected pity for Olive Hornby, whoever she might be. At least in Roanapur the dead generally stayed dead! To have someone hounding him even after he or she was dead sounded like no fun at all.

Meanwhile, Hermione was asking: "You say you saw a pair of big yellow eyes? Were you looking straight into them?" She had a piece of parchment and a quill out, and was ready to take notes.

"Yes," Myrtle answered. She did not seem to like Hermione, but the Bloody Baron, right behind her, was keeping her focused on the subject at hand. Harry had noticed before that the Baron was someone that most of the other ghosts seemed to respect. Even Peeves the poltergeist did not dare offend him. "I looked out of my stall…and I was looking straight into them! Then my body stopped, all at once! It was like nothing I'd ever felt before!" Tears began to spill down her cheeks. "Or ever will again!" She started crying. The Baron raised an eyebrow, but Hermione gave him a standard Slytherin signal to stand down. She leaned forward, all sympathy.

"There, there, Myrtle. We think that whatever killed you all those years ago is back, and we're looking for it. Would you help us find and kill it?"

Myrtle's whole face lit up. "Oh, would I ever! What do I have to do?" She scowled. "The only thing I'd like even better would be to catch that boy who killed me! I'd like to see how _he'd_ like being confined to Hogwarts forever!"

"When we have all the stuff we'll need, I'll send the Baron to find you. Is that suitable?" Myrtle nodded, and Hermione stood, signalling that the interview was over. The Baron released Myrtle, and she flew around the room singing happily, and dreadfully off-key, before vanishing.

The Baron looked rather embarrassed. "Please forgive her, Miss Granger. The circumstances of her death unhinged her, and even before that, she was slightly unstable. Not all us ghosts are like that at all."

"Of course not," Hermione reassured him. "You might want to tell the other ghosts that we're looking for whatever's been doing this. After all, Nearly Headless Nick is a ghost, and he was affected. You have reasons to want us to succeed."

The Baron looked at her as though he'd never seen her before, then bowed low. "You are as shrewd as you are beautiful, Miss Granger. If I'd known you when I lived…but no need to dwell on what could have been. Farewell." He disappeared, and Hermione stared at the spot where he'd been, blushing bright red.

"He can't mean that…can he?" She turned to the others. "All that stuff about me being beautiful?"

"Just shows that being dead doesn't preclude having good taste," Ron said. When Hermione burst into tears and glommed onto him, he looked like a deer caught in headlights…but didn't let go.

By this time, the indictment against Gilderoy Lockhart was nearly complete. The older members of what had become known as the "Get Gilderoy" group went over it carefully. "This has to be airtight," muttered Pucey. "If we make any mistakes, the authorities will come down on us like a ton of bricks!"

"True, that," Ron Weasley said. "There's too many people who believe in that fraud."

The testimony they had managed to find, from people who'd been present at times when Gilderoy Lockhart claimed to have done various wonderful things, was particularly enlightening. The witnesses often said that Lockhart had been nowhere nearby when the feats were performed, but that he had shown up later. And, again and again, the people who were thought to have actually performed those feats had no memory whatsoever of having done so after Lockhart had gone.

"Balalaika always says that 'once is happenstance, twice is coincidence…'" muttered Dudley.

"'But three times is enemy action!'" Harry finished their mentor's mantra for them. The other Slytherins, the purebloods in particular, looked at them like they'd just started speaking Swahili.

After a minute, Flint said: "If you hadn't told us repeatedly that this woman's a Muggle, Harry, I'd swear blind that she's a long-lost great-great-great granddaughter of Salazar himself! That's almost exactly like something the Founder would have said!"

"Nobody ever said that Slytherin was stupid," Hermione pointed out. "In a lot of ways, I think he was by far the sharpest of the Four Founders. I can't agree with his apparent disapproval of teaching Muggle-borns, but I can understand it in the context of his times. Back then, most Muggles hated and feared magic, and the chances that a Muggle-born might turn against us was very real."

"You mean it isn't that way now?" asked someone in the crowd.

Hermione shook her head. "Most Muggles would probably be fascinated by magic, if they only knew it existed. I'd bet that Muggles would pay good money to see real dragons, to name just one thing." Some of the purebloods looked very thoughtful at that statement. Harry could just see them mentally adding piles of Galleons. He knew that look…oh, how he knew that look! He felt a second's blinding homesickness for Roanapur, where at least one didn't have crazy monsters and the people who taught one could be counted upon to know what they were doing!

A few days later, _The Quibbler_ published the biggest expose in its history. The headline was simplicity itself:

_**Gilderoy Lockhart: Hero or Hoaxer?**_

The article below the headline summarized all that the "Get Gilderoy Group" had found out, with names, dates, places and inconsistencies clearly listed. Lockhart's more extravagant claims, such as being able to force a werewolf back to human form during the full moon, were also examined in detail, with statements by experts in the field to the effect that his exploits, if true, were groundbreaking and revolutionary in themselves.

The second article in the series went into Lockhart's time as a teacher, with interviews with various Hogwarts students who were less than satisified with what their famous teacher had to offer. "All he ever talks about is _himself_," Marietta Edgecombe of Ravenclaw complained, "and he never seems to go into the practical details of what he _says_ he did. I think he's a big fat phony!"

Some of "Gilderoy's Gladiators" had a lot to say about the quality of the coaching they had received, as well. "I got my arse handed to me because that man couldn't be bothered to show us how to duel properly!" a Hufflepuff girl complained.

The day the articles began to appear, nearly everybody in Hogwarts was absorbed in the Quibbler, reading it even at the tables in the Great Hall. Luna was over the moon with joy. "Daddy's never had this kind of sales before, ever!" she burbled to her friends. "We'll be able to repair the Rookery, and maybe buy a new press!" Dudley smiled at her, and she flew into his arms for a hug. "Dudley, do you think you and Harry could come visit me at the Rookery one day?" she asked.

"Don't know why not, Luna-moth," Dudley answered. "Of course, Mum…and Balalaika, I imagine…might have a few things to say about that. You know Harry and I work over the summer hols."

"Then maybe I can come to visit you?" Luna asked. Over her head, Harry and Dudley exchanged glances. At first, Harry was appalled at the thought of their innocent little friend being exposed to the "wretched hive of scum and villainy" that Roanapur was, but then he remembered how cool and collected she was, and how fast with her wand.

_In other schools, they train young ladies to watch out for the wicked world, _ran through his mind. _Here at Hogwarts, the wicked world had best watch out for our young ladies! _He smiled at the thought. He didn't think that Luna would ever make it all the way to Roanapur, but if she did, he would welcome her. And he knew that Aunt Petunia felt the lack of a girl, for all that she loved both her boys.

The teachers' responses to the expose series were interesting. Some of them pointedly read the _Quibbler_ while sitting at the staff table, in full view of the students. Others didn't, but Harry would have bet anything he owned that none of them had missed one word. Suddenly, Luna was getting points for Slytherin for doing perfectly routine things, like handing Professor Sprout a watering can in Herbology.

Professor Lockhart was the one Harry was watching, though. For the most part, he tried to laugh the whole thing off as a silly article in a silly magazine, at least at first. As the series went on, and more and more people came forward with stories about how the things in his books either had never happened, or had happened very differently from what he had said, he lost his sense of humor about the whole thing.

He tried retaliating against Luna, since her father was out of reach and she was an obvious target. The points he took from her nearly, but did not quite, balanced the points she was given by the other teachers. When he began to assign her detentions, though, Professor Snape stepped in.

"You are not to give Miss Lovegood any further detentions without first clearing them with me," Snape snarled, as Harry, Dudley and Ron hid in the dark corner of the hallway and drank in every word with glee. "You are in enough trouble as it is, _Professor_, and I would strongly advise you to keep your nose clean!"

"I'll tell Dumbledore on you!" Lockhart blustered. He stuck out his chin, his expression petulant. "Any teacher has the right to assign detentions to unsatisfactory or disobedient students! I have the right to expect discipline in my classes!"

"_Miss Lovegood_, a discipline problem?" Snape snorted contemptous laughter. "Tell _that_ one to the house-elves…the wizards won't believe it! She's been in my House since she was Sorted, and I have never had a moment's trouble with her, nor have any of the other teachers!" Snape grinned unpleasantly. "I wonder how _that _would look in the _Quibbler_, now that I think on it? 'Teacher Persecuting Student at Hogwarts?' If that got out, you'd be lucky to avoid a lynch mob!" Lockhart went pale, then red, then pale again as the truth of Snape's words sank home. "In future, you will check with me, or with Professor Dumbledore, before assigning any detentions or subtracting any points from Miss Lovegood. _Or else_…"

"Or _what_ else?" Lockhart visibly tried to look unintimidated, but to Harry's practiced eye, the act was as phony as everything else about him.

"You'll find out, dear colleague," Snape purred. He turned and stalked away down the corridor, leaving Lockhart staring after him, visibly fuming with impotent rage. Harry and his friends decided that it was time to leave, and made themselves scarce before the posturing phony could take his humiliation out on them.

The reaction from the public was also felt in Hogwarts. A few days after the articles started appearing, Draco gasped at breakfast and his eyes went wide. "That's my Dad! What's Dad doing here?" he asked.

Sure enough, it was Lucius Malfoy, in person. He walked down the center of the Great Hall as though he owned the castle, as all eyes turned to him. Harry grinned to himself as he heard some of the girls sighing. Mr. Malfoy was a good-looking man, he supposed, with his even, aristocratic features and his long white hair. Harry remembered how he'd looked at Luna, though, and he thought that Mr. Malfoy's good looks were like a pretty mask covering something ugly and nasty. He instinctively moved a little closer to Ginny, who was sitting beside him, and he noticed that Dudley was also moving to cover Luna and Ron was unobtrusively positioning himself to protect Hermione.

Professor Dumbledore reacted as though a visit from the head of the Malfoy clan was an everyday event. "So nice to see you, Mr. Malfoy! What can we do for you?"

"You can explain these stories I've been reading, about how your Defence professor is apparently not only utterly unqualified for the position he holds, but obtained it under false pretences." Malfoy's eyes were like chips of blue ice, and his expression was as grim as though he were going into battle.

"I say, now!" That was Lockhart, on his feet, swelling up like a pouter pigeon. "I resent those false imputations, and I demand a chance to clear my name!" Mr. Malfoy turned his wintry gaze onto Lockhart, and the Defence professor visibly wilted under it.

"You are on the Board of Governors, and have that right," Dumbledore conceded. "Will you join us for breakfast, and afterward, we can retire to the Faculty Common-Room, where we can hash this out? Some of the other professors may well want to join us." Dumbledore clapped his hands, and a place at the faculty table appeared for Mr. Malfoy, who sat down at it and tucked into his breakfast with every evidence of enjoyment.

Of course, once the meal was over, the appearance of Mr. Malfoy was the talk of the school. It was a Sunday, so no classes were scheduled, and most of the students forgathered in their House common rooms to dissect the whole situation as best they could.

"Dad's pretty furious, from what Mum tells me," Draco said to an attentive audience of Slytherins. "He takes Defence pretty seriously himself, and he's not been pleased with the quality of the training I've had since I've been here. He and Mum were discussing sending me to Durmstrang instead, but Mum didn't want me so far away."

Harry, Ron, Hermione, Dudley and Ginny all exchanged significant glances, and Harry figured he knew what they were all thinking. The thought of the blond pest being far, far away in the deep depths of Russia was not one that displeased any of them.

"But I've also got my betrothed to worry about," Draco was going on. He looked around. "Come to it, where is she? Where is Pansy?"

Reminded of Pansy's existence, Harry looked around. Sure enough, there was no sign of her, and normally she was in the middle of anything exciting that was going on. "Where is she? Was she at breakfast?"

"No, she wasn't," Hermione said. "Now that I think on it, I don't think I've seen her all day. Her bed hadn't been slept in, either." Harry felt a cold chill going down his spine. He disliked Pansy Parkinson, but he didn't wish her any real harm, either.

Pucey took control of the situation. "We should find her. I'll want some girls to check the girls' loos. The rest of us can spread out and search the corridors. She's probably off sulking somewhere, but I don't like the idea of her wandering this castle alone with whatever-it-is about!"

Hermione raised her hand, and Pucey nodded at her, giving her leave to speak. "Pucey…I think that whatever's in the castle might just be a basilisk. I've not been able to find anything else powerful enough to affect a ghost!"

That sobered everybody instantly. Soon, the Slytherins were organized into a search, looking for their errant Housemate. After a little while, they found something they wished they hadn't.

Written in blood, on one of the walls not far from their common room, were the words _"Her skeleton shall lie in the Chamber forever. The Heir of Slytherin has returned!"_

END Chapter 37


	38. Into the Chamber

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 38

Into the Chamber

by Technomad

Every Slytherin felt ice down his or her back at the words. While Pansy was a dedicated pain-in-the-ass, they didn't want to see her dead.

Draco Malfoy broke the silence. "She's my fiancee. I'm going after her!" The others stared at him as though he'd just announced that he was transferring to Hufflepuff House or had decided to undergo a sex-change. Draco was usually a dedicated believer in "All for one, and that one is Draco Malfoy!" This was literally unprecedented.

Harry stepped up. "You aren't going alone, Draco. I'll go in with you."

"You?" Draco gaped at Harry. "But you despise me."

"Don't feel bad, Draco. We _all_ despise you," Ron said, putting his arm around Draco's shoulders in a pals-together way as the others made agreeing noises. "But on this, we stick together. I'll be right with you."

"And me," said Hermione. "If there is a basilisk down there, I know of some countermeasures that might be able to deal with it."

"If Harry goes, I go too," said Dudley. He turned to Luna, who looked as though she wanted to say something. "And _you_ are staying _behind_, Luna-moth. Harry and I are used to danger. We live in a dangerous place. I couldn't bear it if something happened to you."

"That's sweet of you, Dudley," Luna said. Harry regarded her narrowly. She had not said that she was actually staying behind…

"In any case, we're wasting time we don't have! There's ropes in the storerooms. Get them! Dudley and I can rig rappells. The Chamber's almost certainly below the castle, proper," Harry snapped, and people leaped to obey his orders. He and his friends had earned Slytherin House's respect the previous year by taking down trolls, and it was generally understood that second-years or no second-years, when he and his friends took charge, it was better to obey.

Soon, the search party was gathered in Myrtle's loo. Myrtle, herself, looked unsettled at this invasion, particularly since so many of them were male, but the Bloody Baron's gimlet eye ensured that whatever thoughts she had in her so-called mind stayed unspoken.

"Search for anything that could be a hidden door!" At that command, the searchers spread out, examining literally every inch of the room, testing cracks in the walls with their pocket knives to see if they could be widened, and all but checking with magnifying glasses.

Hermione, alone, did not join in the search. She looked around the room narrowly, then strolled over to Myrtle. "Myrtle, dear, could you be a love and tell me which stall you were in when you died?"

Swelling with importance at being consulted, Myrtle led Hermione over to a stall. Hermione looked at the stall, then toward the center of the round room. Hermione went over, carefully looking at the sinks that dominated the center of the room. She peered at them, examining each one closely. Then she let out a piercing whistle. Everybody stopped dead to hear what she had to say.

"Harry? Take a look at this." Harry, with Dudley and Ron in tow, came over to see what Hermione had found. "See that? There's a serpent scratched on it."

Sure enough, on the copper tap, there was a rather well-drawn snake. Hermione scrunched up her face in thought. "It occurs to me, Harry, that the password, or whatever, might be in Parseltongue. Could you try to say something in it?"

Harry nodded. "Open," he said, but the secret entrance, if there was one, stayed firmly shut. Hermione gave him a fond, exasperated look. "That was in English, Harry. I could understand it."

"I think I need a snake. A real one."

"_Great_! And just where are we going to find a _snake_?" By now, everybody was watching this byplay; whatever Hermione had found seemed more promising than probing the walls and floors endlessly.

"Allow me!" With a flourish, Draco stepped forward, waved his wand, and intoned "_Serpensortia_!" A large snake appeared in the sink. Hermione, Dudley, Harry and everybody else stared at him. He preened under their attention. "Snape taught me that spell. I was going to use it in the next duelling tournament."

"Bloody favoritism," Ron muttered. "Draco, when this is all over, could you show me that one? Looks dead useful!" He grinned evilly. "I have this unpleasant aunt who hates snakes! Next time she visits…"

_"We're. __**Wasting**__. __**Time**__!"_ snapped Hermione. "Harry! Try talking to the snake in Parseltongue! See if you can come up with a password that opens that passage!"

"Uh, okay." Feeling like an utter fool, and disliking being stared at, Harry began: "_Uh, open sesame? Open up?_" Much to everyone's surprise, the sink rose up, revealing a vertical shaft going down. "Blimey!"

"Note to self," they heard Ron mutter, "do not argue with Hermione. She's generally right." Hermione looked very smug for a second, before remembering that this was serious business.

Ginny and Luna came back in, toting coils of rope. A second later, Lockhart burst into the room, a wild-eyed expression on his face, his wand in his hand. He swung the wand around to cover everybody at once. "Nobody move!" His face split in an ugly grin of triumph. "Don't think for a second I don't know who it was who plotted against me, who planted those stories in that hateful little magazine!" He jabbed his wand into Luna's back, and Harry had to signal to keep Dudley from going for their teacher's throat, wand or no wand. At that moment, Lockhart reminded Harry of people he'd seen in Roanapur…people who'd gone clean 'round the bend.

Lockhart giggled insanely. "Ah, and I see you've found the Chamber of Secrets itself! What a triumph that'll be for my next book…after I _Obliviate_ the lot of you and throw you to whatever's down there!" His face twisted in a parody of sadness. "Oh, what a shame that I wasn't in time to save you…but this'll prove that I am really a great hero! And all those other people I Obliviated will have to shut up!" He grabbed Luna by the back of her collar, jerking her in close. "Starting with this one will be sweet, sweet revenge!"

Ginny saw her chance. Her hand darted for her waist, coming out with her own wand, and she screamed "_Petrificus Totalus_!" Lockhart froze in place, like a sculpture of "Insanity," and Luna pulled free, heedless of her collar ripping. Dudley ran forward and grabbed her, holding her tightly. Ginny looked on with an approving smile.

"I'm all right, Dudley. And I'm sorry about leading him here. We were just coming out of the storerooms with these ropes, when he came on us and had us covered with his wand. He forced us to lead him in here."

"Not your fault, Luna," Dudley reassured her, releasing her when he noticed that he was squeezing her so tightly that she couldn't breathe easily. "The fault is all his."

"Now that we've got him, what do we do with him?" asked Harry.

Hermione was pale. "We've attacked a teacher! We're going to be in so much trouble!"

Draco, of all people, reassured her. "He attacked a student first. We all witnessed him doing it. And after those exposes, I don't think he has much credibility left." Hermione looked somewhat relieved, but she was still plainly frightened.

"We're wasting time," Harry snapped. He gestured Dudley over, and they began rigging up a rappelling rig. "We'll go down first, one at a time, and then we'll lower the rest of you with our wands." He looked over at Lockhart, and smiled evilly. "Matter of fact, we'll bring our _dear_ professor along, too. Dealing with evil beasts _is_ his specialty, after all!"

That idea met with general approval. Once the rappelling rigs were ready, Harry went over the side, lowering himself in the way he'd been taught in Roanapur by Sergeant Boris. If it hadn't been quite so dark, and he hadn't been going into danger, he'd have enjoyed it. Rappelling, in his opinion, was worlds of fun.

After a longish drop, he found himself standing in a damp, muddy-smelling chamber, with a tunnel stretching off into the distance in front of him. "I'm down!" he called up. A few minutes later, Dudley was coming down the rope, soon standing by his side. "We're ready! Come on down, one at a time!"

One of the first people to come was Professor Lockhart. Petrified as he was, he was plainly terrified at what he'd got himself into; his eyes rolled madly. Finally, Ginny, Luna, Hermione, Ron and Draco had joined Harry and Dudley at the bottom of the shaft.

Ginny un-Petrified Lockhart, after making sure she had his wand. "Right, you prancing phony. It's time to live up to those lying books you wrote…or had written for you! Get on down that tunnel!" With a whimper, but clearly fully conscious of how many wands were trained on him, Lockhart stumbled off down the tunnel.

As they walked, their footsteps crunched on small bones, and Luna leaned down and picked one up. She examined it carefully by the light of her wand. "Some sort of small rodent. Most likely a rat," she decided. She tossed it aside. "Something's eating them. There's something or other alive down here."

"Or _was_." That was Ron. He was sticking close by Hermione, both of them with their wands out and lit, like the rest of their companions.

"Is," Harry said flatly. "I've heard something speaking Parseltongue in the walls. I'd say that some sort of snake lives down here."

"A basilisk is a 'kind of snake.'" That observation from Hermione killed conversation, and they slogged on in silence.

After a while, they came to a huge set of doors, with serpents carved in them. "Alohomora" did no good at opening them, so Harry gestured the others to one side.

He stared at the carved snakes, willing himself to see them as alive. When he spoke, "Open!" came out in Parseltongue, and the door slowly creaked open. With the door open, Ginny pointed ahead, and Gilderoy Lockhart entered the Chamber of Secrets.

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances. "Well…he is expendable, isn't he?" whispered Ginny. Harry nodded, making a mental note to himself to get to know this girl better. She had the right attitude to make it in Roanapur, and he looked forward to introducing his pal's sister to the outlaw town. _Maybe someday_…But right then, they had another problem to deal with.

The Chamber of Secrets was surprisingly large, and surprisingly dry. Harry wondered how it was kept dry, then reminded himself about the existence of magic. The Four Founders had been supremely skilled sorcerers, and he supposed that waterproofing an underground chamber was child's play to them.

At one end of the chamber, there was a large stone statue of a man in wizard's robes, with a rather monkey-like face. Hermione peered at it. "Is that Salazar Slytherin?" she asked.

"Beats me," said Draco, following her gaze. "But I think I see Pansy!" He ran to the dark bundle that lay between the feet of the statue, and the others followed. Sure enough, it was Pansy Parkinson, unconscious.

"Pansy! Wake up! Oh, please, wake up!" Draco's distress at his fiancee's condition was patently real, as he knelt by her and tried to revive her. Dudley turned to Harry.

"If Draco doesn't watch out, he'll turn into a human being one of these days," he muttered in Russian. Harry nodded, then caught his breath as a strange figure appeared…a dark-haired, handsome boy who seemed rather familiar, dressed in Hogwarts robes trimmed in green and white. He had been standing nearby, in the shadows.

"She won't wake, you know," the strange boy drawled, and Draco looked up, wild-eyed.

"What? What do you mean? Who are you, anyway?" Draco got up off the floor, his wand in his hand. "Who are you and what are you doing down here?"

"Me?" The boy seemed amused. "_You_ should know who _I_ am." He raised his own wand, and wrote in the air. The words "Tom Marvolo Riddle" formed, glowing in the dimness.

"What do you know about Lord Voldemort? He's supposed to be the Heir of Slytherin! Is he down here?" asked Harry, not caring that his use of the name startled or frightened his friends who'd been raised to say "You-know-who."

"Oh, Harry," purred Tom, "you are so _entertainingly_ dense!" With a flick of his wand, the letters he'd drawn in the air rearranged themselves, to spell "I Am Lord Voldemort."

"That was a name I already used in my Hogwarts years," Tom explained, as the Slytherins gasped in horror and Lockhart, off in a corner and forgotten, whimpered with fear. "I wouldn't use my father's common, filthy, Muggle name! Not when I could come up with one that would be respected and feared, when I became the greatest wizard of all!"

"Let me get this straight," Ron drawled, from where he was helping Draco try vainly to revive Pansy. "You are the same bloke we know as…as…_Voldemort_?"

"That is correct, you red-headed tosswit." Tom bowed ironically. "To use words you've never heard before and won't ever hear again!"

"Oh?" Ron purred. He flicked his arm and his wand slid into his hand. "You do mean 'red-headed tosswit,' don't you, now?"

Tom sneered. "No, I meant 'you are correct.' Pansy here was nice enough to tell me all about you, when she was writing in her diary! _My_ old diary!" He gave them all a triumphant grin. "I put part of my soul into that book, and it was easy to possess her!" His face twisted in an exaggerated moue of woe. "Dear Tommy, you're the only person who _understands_ me! Dear Tommy, that Mudblood bitch I have to room with gets _all_ the points and attention, just because she's _smarter _and everybody _likes_ her! Dear Tommy, I'm affianced to a tow-headed egomaniac who's so in love with himself that when we get married, I'll have to take Polyjuice to look like him if I want to get shagged!"

"_What_?" shouted Draco. Everybody else was trying to suppress their giggles. "What did she say about me?"

In Russian, Dudley muttered to Harry: "Sounds like our Pansy…and she does know Draco well, doesn't she?" Harry nodded.

"But it was you I wanted most to meet," Tom went on, looking straight at Harry. "I want to know how you…a common, half-blooded brat of no distinction…managed to beat the greatest wizard who ever lived!"

"Me?" Harry said, in theatrical astonishment. "You mean to tell me that I defeated Dumbledore? Oh, come _on_ now! There's no need to flatter me by telling me wild stories!"

"No! Me! I'm the greatest wizard who ever lived!" Tom was so angry, he nearly jumped up and down. "And I'll prove it! _Speak to me, Slytherin, Greatest of the Hogwarts Four_!" The last sentence was in Parseltongue, and Harry heard a sound as of stone creaking against stone. He looked up to see the statue opening its mouth. Something moved inside…something with scales.

"The Basilisk!" Harry screamed. Everybody drew their wands.\

END


	39. The King of Serpents and the Lord

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 39

The King of Serpents and the Lord

"Shut your eyes! The Basilisk petrifies its prey by looking in their eyes!" shrieked Hermione. Along with the others, Harry squeezed his eyes tight shut. He could hear the huge reptile, slowly coming through the open mouth of the statue and landing on the floor of the Chamber. Riddle's laugh, high and shrill and insane, echoed off the walls. Someone whimpered. The Basilisk let out a long hiss.

"All together! Backs together! Wands out!" shouted Hermione. They all budged together, back-to-back, their wands out and ready to use. "All together now, start shooting every spell you know! Something might work!"

A thought struck Harry. "Hermione!" he yelled. "A basilisk is a reptile, right?"

"Yes! Basically, it's the King of Serpents! Its name comes from the Greek word for a king!"

"Good!" Harry raised his wand and screamed "_Gelidus_!" The atmosphere in the Chamber went perceptibly colder. "Everybody! Cast the strongest Freezing Charms you can! We can freeze that stinking snake! Snakes don't _like_ it cold!" Harry hoped that was true of magical beasts, as well. He wished he had someone handy who would know. Still, chilling things down was the best bet they had.

Tom Riddle screamed in rage as they all raised their wands and chanted "_Gelidus_!" They ignored him, concentrating on throwing every bit of their power into the spell, and the temperature dropped and dropped and dropped. Harry still had his eyes tight shut, but he could hear that the snake was moving around less and less. He shivered, and then his whole body shook. He had been raised in the tropics, for all his British ancestry, and this cold thing was _not_ on, as far as he was concerned!

"_Bozhemoi!_ I'm freezing my…_ears_…off!" Dudley complained. Harry knew his cousin more than well enough to know that he'd originally intended to say something rather saltier than that, but had edited his complaint at the last second, probably for Luna's benefit. He dared to open one eye a crack, and saw the basilisk, curled up in the middle of the Chamber with its head tucked into the middle of its coils.

"It's safe! You can open your eyes!" They all opened their eyes, and gasped in wonder at the sight of the King of Serpents, huddled in a coil to hibernate. Its head was deep within its coils. The snake's scales and the walls of the Chamber glistened with ice crystals from the moisture in the air, and all of them shook with cold. "Blimey, I think it's ten below zero!" Nearby, Lockhart huddled in a small ball, shivering and whimpering with terror.

"You monster! You evildoer! How could you do such a thing to my noble pet, the creature Salazar Slytherin left in the school to rid it of the unworthy?" raged Tom. Reminded of the phantom's existence, the Slytherin contingent turned to face him.

"And who in Merlin's name are _you_ to decide who's worthy?" purred Draco. "You damned ghoul, how dare you abuse and control _my fiancee_? I wish you _were_ corporeal…I'd have you wearing your guts for an apron!"

"We're all Slytherins, Tom," Hermione said, shaking her head sadly at the folly of humanity. "We don't want the school to shut down. We _like_ it. You're a menace to things, and we have to stop you."

"Basilisks don't _care_ if someone's pureblooded or not, or whether someone is a 'blood traitor' or not, Tom," Luna pointed out, her voice as calm as always. "I have a very hard time believing that Salazar Slytherin, the greatest of all the Founders, wouldn't know that such a beast was as much a danger to those he wanted to keep around as to those he wanted to be shut of."

"Trying to reason with a ghost is like putting perfume and pretty lingerie on a corpse, Luna-moth," said Dudley, standing beside Luna protectively, his wand up and ready to fire spells at a moment's notice. "Pretty it up as you will, it's still a corpse. A stinking, decaying, horrible corpse! He's not worth talking to."

"Well, as soon as I finish sucking the life out of this little fool here, I'll be fully corporeal!" Tom laughed. He twirled a wand in one hand, one that Harry recognized as belonging rightfully to Pansy Parkinson. His smile was pure predator, and Harry thought involuntarily of Roanapur for a second. "She was such a good little dupe! I may even miss her…_naah_!"

Draco's eyes narrowed with anger. "_Expelliarmus_!" he yelled, waving his wand in the way Flitwick had taught them for the Disarming Charm, and the wand flew out of Tom's hand before he could do anything. Unfortunately, it landed near Lockhart, and the next thing they knew, Lockhart had grabbed it and was on his feet, facing them, his eyes wild and foam on his lips. He took deadly aim at Luna. Luna's eyes went very wide, and she raised her own wand to try to defend herself.

"Now I have you, you little swine! Ruin my reputation, will you? After I kill you, I'll make sure that my story's the only one told of what happened down here!" He raised his wand, and shrieked "_Avada_…"

"_No!_ _**NO!**_" Dudley screamed. He pushed Luna to the floor, covering her with his body and firing a quick _Tarantallegra _at Lockhart to keep him off-balance. The training he had received in Flitwick's Furies served him well. His spell threw Lockhart off enough to disrupt his Killing Curse.

Along with the others, Harry was staring in horror at their teacher. He had no illusions any more about Lockhart, but seeing him attempt to murder a student was far above anything he had ever expected. Roanapur reflexes kicked in, and he fired a curse at Lockhart, who ducked and dodged it; the _Tarantallegra_ had worn off, and phony or no, the ponce was in fine athletic trim.

The others' astonishment had changed to anger, and they all began firing curses, hexes and jinxes at Lockhart. Unfortunately, the phony did have some skills, and he threw up a Shield Charm that repelled what they could hit him with. And, what was worse, the room was warming back up with the energies their fight was giving off, and a stray spell hit the Basilisk, which stirred and seemed to come back to life!

"Hermione! Ron! Keep that damn snake on ice! The rest of you, keep on fighting Lockhart! We've got no choice but to take him down!" yelled Harry. He threw a Tickling Charm at Lockhart, while Dudley and Luna concentrated on slicking the chamber floor beneath the fraud's feet, hoping to force him off balance and make him fall. With one corner of his mind, he noted with approval that his cousin and his…_girlfriend_?… had clearly been paying close attention when he told of his and Hermione's adventures in their previous year. Keeping an opponent from getting to his feet was a good tactic, and he wanted to try it out sometime in Roanapur.

Draco cast his _Serpensortia_, startling the Defense professor. He'd clearly not run into such a spell before, and he recoiled instinctively as the huge snake coiled and hissed menacingly, raising its head to strike, before the cold of the chamber hit it. Ginny threw a Bat-Bogey Hex, one of her own specialties, and all of a sudden Lockhart was batting frantically at tiny green bats that flew out of his nose and fluttered in his face, distracting him. He lost his balance on the slippery floor, and fell down hard. That gave Harry an opening, and he yelled "_Incarcerous_!" A second later, Lockhart was tied up from his feet to his neck, wrapped in rope like an Egyptian mummy, and Pansy's wand was lying on the icy floor beside him. Harry stepped forward and picked it up. "You _lose_, you damned swindler!" he snarled. The look Lockhart gave him should have had him lying dead on the floor, but he shrugged it off. It wasn't the first time he'd been glared at by an expert.

Tom Riddle had stood back quietly, watching the combat. He now reminded them of his existence, clapping slowly and sardonically. "Very good, Harry Potter," he drawled. "Tell me…have you ever considered changing sides? I could use someone like you!"

"You expect me to follow _you_? _You_? A wanker who was beaten by a baby? A tosser I saw off last year, when I was nothing but a firstie?" Harry sneered. "Any position serving you is too low for me. I intend to run my _own_ organization when I'm out of school. And blunderers like _you_ won't be welcome, so don't come bawling for a job!" Beside him, Dudley nodded, supporting Harry as he always did.

Tom Riddle's mouth went tight at Harry's contemptous dismissal of his offer. "Well, once I'm corporeal again, we'll see who ends up in tears!" Reminded of Pansy's existence, Harry looked at her. She looked worse than she had, and now Harry noticed that she clutched a familiar-looking leather-bound book to her chest; she'd been curled on her side, and at first he hadn't seen it.

Something told Harry that the book was important, so he fired a blindingly-bright Light Charm, hoping to dazzle Riddle, and ducked forward to grab the book out of Pansy's hands. He successfully got his hands on it, but had forgotten that they'd slicked the floor. His feet slipped out from under him, and he landed heavily, partly on Pansy and partly on the floor, knocking the breath out of him. For a few minutes, all he could do was to struggle to breathe.

Tom Riddle was not slow to take advantage. Somehow, he got Harry's wand away from him; Harry never knew quite how. When he rolled over onto his back, gasping and sobbing for air, he found himself staring down the business end of his own wand. "Give over, Potter! It's the end of the road for you! Once again, Lord Voldemort wins!"

Harry fully expected to die. However, Riddle apparently wanted to play with his victims, and was willing to postpone full corporeality. He pointed Harry's wand at the Basilisk, and screamed a spell Harry didn't know. The room began to warm perceptibly, and the ice crystals that had formed melted off the walls, forming little puddles on the floor.

"The Basilisk!" screamed Ginny. "It's waking up!"

Sure enough, the warmth had restored the Basilisk to life. Harry remembered that the creature had been there for nearly a millenium, and had had to become adapted to periods of cold. Otherwise, it wouldn't have survived its first Scots winter. He had to do something! All he had to work with was the diary, which he still was clutching, so he threw it into the knot of his friends. "It's the diary!" he gasped. "It's the source of his power! We've got to destroy it!"

Ginny grabbed the book out of midair with one hand, and pointed her wand at it, screaming a curse. The book absorbed the spell, then threw it back, flying out of her hands and being caught by Luna Ginny was all but knocked off her feet, with her hair blown back and ash all over her face. She looked comically surprised. Meanwhile, the Basilisk was uncoiling, and soon would be back in the fight.

Tom was too busy to take much of an interest in his pet; he was throwing hexes and jinxes at Harry's friends as fast as he could, while they dodged and shielded themselves and did their best to return his fire. Whatever "Tom Riddle" was, Harry had to admit that he was a top-notch combat wizard. _If we'd had him on our team at the Duelling Association, we'd have cleaned the other team's clocks_, ran through Harry's mind.

Harry had recovered his breath, and gathered himself, springing at Riddle and doing his best to grab his wand out of the phantom's hand. He succeeded; as a phantom, Riddle was not nearly as physically strong as Harry was, and his experience on the streets of Roanapur had made him a very competent martial artist and street-fighter for one his age. Once he had his wand back, he scrambled back to his friends, to help them against the King of Serpents.

Luna had the diary in one hand, and was facing off against the Basilisk, her eyes scrunched shut against the deadly rays of its eyes. Unfortunately for her, she tripped over an irregularity in the floor and fell, her wand flying out of her hand as she tried to catch herself. Over her, the Basilisk hissed its triumph, rearing back its head and striking down, its huge fangs gleaming in the dim light. All poor Luna had was the diary, and she held it up in both hands as a pathetic final gesture of defense. Dudley gave a despairing scream.

The Basilisk's fang pierced clear through the diary, and an extraordinary thing happened. The diary began to bleed black ink, far more than anybody would expect. Behind Harry, Tom Riddle screamed, and Harry turned just in time to see him writhe in agony before disappearing. Once he was gone, Pansy stirred, her eyes opening.

"Draco? Draco, are you there?" she called out. Heedless of all else, Draco ran to his fiancee, cradling her in his arms. "Draco, I'm so sorry! That diary…it possessed me!" She began to grope around. "Where's my wand? And where are we?"

Harry had no time to watch this byplay. Dudley had run forward, dragging Luna backward, away from the Basilisk. Hissing its frustration, the great serpent drew back its head for another strike.

"_Stop! Stop __**right now**_!" shouted Harry. To his amazement and delight, the King of Serpents halted its attack, looking over toward him. Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

"Harry, you can command it! You speak Parseltongue!" gasped Hermione. "Can you make it go back?"

"Let me try!" Keeping his eyes tight shut, Harry went on, in Parseltongue: "_Go back, King of Serpents! Go back to your rest!" _

"_My rest? But, master, I hunger! I hunger! What may I eat_?" The huge snake's tone was plaintive, and Harry could not but feel some sympathy. The poor thing had been locked up down here for nearly a millenium. No wonder it was hungry!

"_If you refrain from paralyzing humans, I will see that you are fed. But now, I wish you to go back to your slumbers. Go now!" _

With a resigned hiss, the Basilisk uncoiled, slithering past the terrified Slytherins and up into the hole it had come out of. Once it was gone, everybody sighed relief, opened their eyes and crowded around Pansy Parkinson. The girls chafed her wrists and checked her pulse; the Duelling Association's lessons had included some basic first aid.

Pansy was sobbing. "I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to! The diary…at first it was the best friend I'd ever had, but I had more and more blackouts, and when I figured out that the blackouts always happened when someone had been paralyzed, I tried to get rid of the diary! It…it wouldn't let me! It made me write those awful things on the wall, and open the passage to the Chamber!"

"It wasn't your fault," Hermione said, holding the other girl close as though they were dearest girlfriends instead of constant rivals. "That was You-Know-Who, you know. He's more powerful than any of us. Even as a phantom, we only beat him with a lot of luck."

"Too right," muttered Dudley, holding Luna close, as though he was afraid she would disappear. There was no chance of that, though; Luna was holding Dudley, and from the way they were looking at each other, Harry figured that they'd definitely bonded.

"Now, how do we get out of here?" muttered Ron. "And what do we do with him," pointing at Lockhart. The fraudulent Professor still had his eyes squinched tight shut, and he shivered, not all with cold. The friends looked at him with chilly, appraising eyes.

"Much as I'd like to leave him down here as Basilisk yummies," Harry decided, "we need him. Once we're out of here, I'll arrange for Hagrid to make deliveries every so often. If the Basilisk isn't hungry, it'll be less likely to go roaming 'round the school."

That plan met with general approval, and Hermione Levitated the bound Lockhart, towing him along behind her as they headed back the way they had come, a short time and a lifetime ago. Harry had his wand in one hand, and the remains of the diary in the other. Once they reached the place where they had come down, they looked up to see the silhouette of Professor Snape's head, peering down the shaft into the darkness.

"Professor! Can you get help to get us out of here?" called Ginny. "We're all right, and we've stopped the attacks!"

Snape audibly gasped with relief. "I shall summon assistance! You stay where you are!" Once the combined talents of the Hogwarts faculty had been brought into play, all of the party, and Lockhart, were back in the bathroom. At first, the teachers were surprised to see Lockhart among them, particularly disarmed and tied up, but a quick explanation sufficed for them to take custody of the errant teacher.

"Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you in his office, as soon as may be. Mr. and Mrs. Parkinson are there and they're frantic to see their daughter. And Lucius Malfoy is also there, wishing to know what's been happening." The friends trooped off to the Headmaster's office.

END Chapter 39


	40. Thieves Fall Out

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 40

Thieves Fall Out

by Technomad

Sure enough, the Malfoys and Parkinsons were in Professor Dumbledore's round office. Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall were present as well, and Madame Pomfrey was just bustling in, looking harried.

When the little procession filed in, Madame Pomfrey fell on Pansy, grabbing her and sitting her down in a chair to be examined. The Parkinsons, unmistakably kin to their daughter, hovered behind her, both of them looking dreadfully worried. Snape came over, wordlessly offering aid, and Madame Pomfrey budged over, clearly grateful for the assistance. After a few minutes, Snape looked up. "Madame Parkinson? Mr. Parkinson? She's in a bad way. With your permission, we need to get her to St. Mungo's."

Madame. Parkinson was sobbing too hard to speak, but Pansy's father nodded through his tears. "Yes! Please! Just save her! Save our little girl!"

Unnoticed in the byplay, Ginny muttered in Harry's ear: "All of a sudden, I'm _not_ so proud of that crack I made before the Christmas hols. The one about 'her parents having realized the mistake they made having her.'" Harry shushed her wordlessly, not wanting to miss anything. Down deep, he agreed with Ginny. Seeing how much the Parkinsons clearly cared about their daughter made him feel guilty about what she'd been through, even though he wasn't really at fault.

Once Snape, Madame Pomfrey and Pansy were gone, Professor Dumbledore looked at the people who were still there. "And now, I trust I shall receive an explanation for the extraordinary events we have recently become aware of?"

Harry stepped forward, laying the ruined diary on the desk. "This was apparently the source of the problem, sir. Its former owner, Tom Riddle, came out of it and possessed Pansy. She's the one who's been doing a lot of the things around the school."

"My word!" Dumbledore muttered, peering at the diary without touching it. "A Horcrux! How on Earth did Miss Parkinson come into possession of it?" Absently, he explained: "A Horcrux contains part of its maker's soul. Making them requires a murder to be committed; it is some of the darkest magic there is. I never dreamed that such an object was within my school." He lifted an eyebrow. "Does anybody have any coherent explanation about how Miss Parkinson was in possession of this object?"

Harry noticed that both Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Parkinson looked very shifty. So did Dumbledore. He stared at the two wizards, and everybody else began to stare at them as well. They began to sweat, then they both cracked.

"You! You utter _jackass! You_ were the one that stole that from my collection!" screamed Malfoy. "I should _never_ have trusted you!"

"You didn't tell me what it would do! All _you _said was that it contained great power!" yelled Parkinson. "You always kept me back! The Dark Lord always liked you best!"

"He liked _me_ best because, unlike _some wizards I could name_, I wasn't an incompetent, pug-nosed _fool_!" By this time, both of them had their wands out, and Harry and his friends shrank back. Harry and Dudley both watched avidly, though. They would not have missed this for the salvation of mankind. Draco was clearly horrified. Hermione, Luna, and Ginny were obviously making mental notes for later. And Ron just wanted to see a good fight.

However, Dumbledore clearly had no interest in seeing his lovely office turned into a war zone. He raised his wand, and both battling wizards were suddenly petrified. "I shall release you both when I am assured that your behavior comports with the dignity I expect from Old Boys of this establishment, instead of brawling Muggle hooligans!" he said, and the tension level in the room ratcheted down noticeably.

In the sudden quiet, Dudley whispered to Harry, in Russian: "And what's _wrong_ with brawling Muggle hooligans?" Then he looked up, into Dumbledore's eyes, and his own eyes went very wide. Dumbledore was smiling.

Very gently, Dumbledore said: "You should remember, Mr. Dursley, that while your linguistic accomplishments are _most_ commendable, there _are_ others in this country who understand Russian." Dudley's ears went red with embarrassment. Dumbledore went on: "_And_ Thai. _And Chinese_. Just so you understand."

"Noted, sir!" Harry and Dudley exchanged glances. While very gently phrased, and very tactfully put, that had been a clear warning. They could not automatically count on privacy merely by switching languages.

By that time, Mesdames Malfoy and Parkinson had come out of their paralysis, and both of them were furious with their husbands. "_You_! You utter _jackass!_ What did you mean, keeping something that dangerous about the house? _Draco_ could have got his hands on it!" screamed Madame Malfoy.

"And our daughter _did_! She could have died! All so you could strut and preen about 'the great Dark Lord!' Well, fool, how do you feel about that madman now?" Pansy's mother had her wand out, and was covering both her husband and Mr. Malfoy. From the expression on her face, she was in a mood to make two widows with one spell. Harry all but hugged himself with glee, until he remembered that Draco was there. Draco was staring at the drama going on before them with horrified eyes.

Luckily, Dumbledore noticed this, as well. A quick gesture with his wand disarmed both angry witches. "_What_ did I say about brawling Muggle hooligans?" he asked. While his tone was gentle, there was a definite edge to it; both ladies blenched, and Draco trembled with fear for both his parents. Unwillingly, Harry pitied him. He knew all too well what it would be like for Draco if he lost his father and mother, and Draco did not have a kindly Aunt Petunia to take him in.

Quiet descended. In the sudden silence, Dumbledore fixed his eyes on his Defence professor. "Well, Gilderoy? It isn't like you to be so quiet! And how _did_ you come to be tied up?"

Released from the spells that had restrained them, the Parkinsons and Malfoys also gave Lockhart long, considering stares. Harry was reminded of a tiger he had seen in the Bangkok zoo, at feeding time, looking at the meat it had just been given.

Luna piped up: "Please, sir, he found us when we found the entry to the Chamber of Secrets. He was threatening to _Obliviate_ us and throw us to whatever was down there. He said that was for exposing him as a fraud in my Daddy's newspaper. We had a hand in that."

The tension level in the room went up, and up, and up. Harry was reminded of how it felt, watching Revy Two-Hands, or Balalaika and Hotel Moscow, or Chang and the Triads, just after they'd received an affront of some sort, but before the inevitable explosion. Their differences forgotten, Dumbledore, the Parkinsons and the Malfoys all gave Lockhart glares that should have had him lying dead on the floor.

"How did you get the better of him, Miss Lovegood?" That was Lucius Malfoy. He seemed to be honestly curious. "I mean, he's got this reputation…I know he's probably not all he claims to be, but he's an adult! How did you children get the better of him?" From the tone of his voice, he was professionally interested. The other adults were also quiet, wanting to hear this.

"Oh, he couldn't cover _all_ of us. Ginny, here, paralyzed him and we disarmed him. Then we forced him down into the Chamber ahead of us. We figured, that way, any traps or things like that would be neutralized, or at worst, we'd get advance warning," Harry spoke up. "Hey, he's stupid, unskilled, and eminently expendable." The other Slytherins nodded agreement. "In Roanapur, we call people like him 'bullet absorbers.' They soak up bullets that might hit someone worthwhile."

There was a silence in the room. Dumbledore finally spoke. "In most towns, they raise young people and send them, helpless and unsuspecting, into a cruel, merciless world. Apparently in Roanapur, they raise young people and send them, cruel and merciless, into a helpless, unsuspecting world." The Malfoys and Parkinsons nodded, giving Harry very nervous looks. Harry grinned to himself. Dudley nudged him in a way that he knew meant "Way to go, cousin!"

The Malfoys and Parkinsons were looking at Harry with what he recognized as reluctant respect. "You are Slytherin to the _bone_…all of you are!" Mr. Malfoy finally whispered.

"Then why did you go?" That was Madame Parkinson. "From what my Pansy has written, she doesn't get along with most of you well at all. Why would you care about her?"

"_We_ don't," Hermione admitted, with a slightly shamefaced grin. "But Draco _does_. And we're Housemates. Slytherin stands alone, and _united_, and surmounts all challenges." Her recital of the Slytherin creed had the adults, save only Dumbledore, nodding agreement. Dumbledore, on the other hand, looked rather sad, and Harry wondered why. Change the wording slightly, and it would have described Hotel Moscow perfectly. Or the Triads. Or any of the successful Roanapur mobs. It was obvious wisdom, to his ears.

"When we figured out that she was missing," Dudley took up the story, "Draco, here, said he was going in after her, and we all joined on in. Draco's a pain, but he's _our_ pain." The Malfoys clearly didn't know what to make of that. "We figured out where the entrance to the Chamber had to be, and thanks to Harry, here, we were able to open it. I'd rather not go into too much detail about how."

"We got ropes from the storage cupboards. That was where Professor Lockhart came across us. Then we rappelled down into the tunnels under the school, and found our way to the Chamber. In there, we found Pansy, nearly drained dry, and the spirit of Tom Riddle, who'd possessed her and taken her wand. He summoned Slytherin's monster, the Basilisk, and set it on us."

_"How did you defeat a Basilisk?"_ Several of the adults all but shouted the question. Hermione pointed to Harry.

"That was Harry's idea. He had us cast all the Freezing Charms we could, because reptiles and cold don't mix. We were able to chill the room down enough that the snake went into torpor and hibernation. With the Basilisk not taking an interest, Tom Riddle by himself was not as much of a problem. He started gloating about how he had used Pansy, and that infuriated Draco…who, by the way, is more of a gentleman than I had realized…and Draco managed to Disarm him with one of the charms we learned in the Duelling Club." Draco looked slightly astonished to hear praise from Hermione. His parents stared, before his mother started beaming and his father swelled up slightly with pride.

"Unfortunately, Lockhart got ahold of Pansy's wand, and was about to kill Luna, when Dudley interfered. We all started throwing spells at him, and managed to get the better of him again. For a famous fighter of dark creatures, he's really not all that good," Ginny said, smiling artlessly.

"By that time, I had figured out that the diary was the secret to Tom Riddle's power, so I got it away from Pansy. We managed to destroy it by getting the Basilisk to ram its fang through the diary," Harry said. He didn't think the adults needed to know all the details. Had he been dealing with Balalaika, he would have gone into detail about just what had happened, but he didn't think that these sheltered wizards could handle some things. "Riddle disappeared, and Pansy woke up. That just left us with the Basilisk. I managed to convince it to go back to sleep, but it's hungry, poor thing. Do you think you could get Hagrid to send it in some food, sir?"

"I'm sure that Hagrid would be delighted to help out. You know that he loves all living creatures, and the more dangerous they are, the better he likes them. You may be sure that he will keep the Basilisk fed. And now that we know that we have a Basilisk, the school as a whole will benefit. Basilisk venom has many uses, and is extremely expensive. Any money we make from it will be split evenly; half to the school for operating expenses, and the other half to be split among you brave young people."

Ron's eyes went wide. "Blimey!" Ginny looked very calculating. Harry knew that they came from a poor family, and he was glad to hear that they were going to be getting a share of whatever money came the school's way from the Basilisk.

Professor Dumbledore pointed to the door. "And now, I think it is time that you fine young people were back in your dormitories. I shall write you out passes so that Mr. Filch or the prefects on patrol will not misunderstand your presence in the halls after lights-out." With a wave of his wand, a sheaf of passes with Dumbledore's signature on them appeared in his hand, and he passed them out. "Now, be on your way!"

As they left, Harry smiled to himself. He could hear what sounded like the beginnings of an almighty brawl between the Parkinsons and the Malfoys, and he privately hoped both sides would lose badly.

END Chapter 40


	41. Comradeship and Convalescence

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 41

Comradeship and Convalescence

by Technomad

Scandal rocked the wizards' world, and the newspapers were on top of it. The _Daily Prophet_'s headline story concentrated on Gilderoy Lockhart's arrest and exposure:

_Teacher A Murderer?_

by Rita Skeeter

We here at the _Daily Prophet _were horrified to find that Gilderoy Lockhart, well-known and controversial author (see our earlier articles about whether his exploits were all his own doing, or the work of others) was arrested at Hogwarts on charges of attempted murder on a group of students. This followed his sacking by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore on the grounds of incompetence and malfeasance in his duties.

While we, along with the rest of the Wizard World, honour and revere Professor Dumbledore for his past accomplishments, recent events at Hogwarts have forced us to question whether this man should continue in office as headmaster. Students have been repeatedly endangered, and questions have been raised about the calibre of teaching at the historic institution.

Meanwhile, the _Quibbler_ focussed on the Basilisk.

_Slytherin's Monster No Myth_

by Xenophilius Lovegood

For centuries, stories have been told of the monster Salazar Slytherin left in the bowels of Hogwarts, to be roused and used by his heir when the time was ripe. Apparently the stories did not tell half the terrible truth.

A Basilisk was slumbering deep within the tunnels under the school, and recent events roused it to life. Luckily, the Boy-Who-Lived and a group of his companions (who included our own daughter) were able to subdue it, and the people it paralyzed shall be restored to full health very soon, according to Madame Poppy Pomfrey, Healer.

Mr. Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper and Keeper of the Keys, a well-known friend to all living beings, assures us that now that the creature's existence is known, it shall be kept safely away from students and fed regularly. The Basilisk's venom is extremely valuable, and there is already a bidding war between several alchemical consortiums for the rights to milk the beast.

We at the _Quibbler_ are most grateful to the Boy-Who-Lived and his friends, whose self-sacrificial courage and concern for a Housemate led to the exposure and neutralization of this threat…

Reading the papers, Harry raised an eyebrow. "I notice that nothing is said in these rags about Tom Riddle's spirit possessing his old diary. Or that Tom Riddle was apparently…He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Harry himself had no fear of the name, but deferred to his Housemates, many of whom shuddered to hear it.

"Stands to reason, doesn't it?" Hermione answered. "I think the last thing Dumbledore wants is for people in general to know about that sort of thing. Both he and Snape acted awfully spooky about it. By the bye, you all are not to speak of such matters. Snape was quite emphatic."

"Well, the sooner I forget about that the happier I'll be!" Ron said, and most of the others nodded in agreement. None of them had enjoyed the confrontation with their spectral foe, and they all knew that luck had played a big part in their victory.

"When Mr. Hagrid feeds the Basilisk again, I want to come along," Luna said. Just as everybody else got ready to tell her why that was a bad idea, Professor Snape came into the common room, and silence fell.

"You will all be glad to hear, I am sure, that Miss Parkinson is out of danger. Her prognosis is good, but she will have to remain at St. Mungo's for some time. I have obtained permission for all of you to leave campus for a day this next Saturday, so that those of you who wish to may visit her in the hospital. She misses her Housemates, and would welcome any company." The hint was very clear.

Draco nodded. "Of course, I'll go." Harry, Dudley, Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny all chimed in in agreement, and Snape favored them with one of his rare smiles. Harry privately thought that if the man smiled more, he'd be more likeable and others would find him easier to deal with.

Sure enough, on Saturday morning, a group of Hogwarts students, all in their best robes, followed Snape down to the gates, where the Knight Bus was waiting to take them to St. Mungo's Hospital. Harry and Dudley enjoyed the wild ride the bus gave, because it reminded them of Thai taxis at home in Roanapur, but without worrying about stumbling into a gunfight. The others reacted in various ways, ranging from looking distinctly green around the gills by the time the bus came to a stop to yelling "Whee!" every time it did something interesting. Snape finally quelled the "Whee!" by giving Luna a stern look, promising a talking-to on the subject of decorum once they were out of there. Luna subsided, but her eyes danced with enjoyment.

Dudley held Luna close, under his arm, and she snuggled next to him with a contented look on her face. Rather to his own surprise, Harry found that Ginny had apparently decided that Luna was on to something, and had chosen him as her seat partner. While this was something he had not expected, not seeing himself as particularly handsome or desirable, he had to admit that Ginny was very pleasant to have sitting close to him. He noticed that Ron and Hermione were doing much the same, and smiled to himself.

St. Mungo's was not unlike other hospitals, but it was clear that it operated on different principles than the Muggle hospitals that Hermione, Harry and Dudley were familiar with. Wards for things like Spell Damage, for instance, were nothing that the Muggle-raised trio had ever seen before, no matter how frequently they had visited sick relatives or friends.

Pansy was in an intensive-care facility; the Healers explained that her "magical core" had been disrupted by being possessed, and she was going to have to stay for a while until they were sure that it was safe to let her go. "If Miss Parkinson attempts serious magic before she is ready, she could burn herself out and become a Squib!" one Healer said. At that, Draco turned very pale.

Pansy was lying in a bed with her mother sitting by her side. On the bedside table were many "Get Well!" cards, mostly from other Slytherins, although all four Houses were represented. Her eyes were closed, but opened when her Housemates entered the room.

"Hi, everyone," she said, her voice rather faint and far-away. "I'm sorry I caused so much trouble."

"Never you mind that, Pansy," said Draco, sitting down on her other side and taking her hand in both of his. "You worry about getting better. Professor Dumbledore says that better witches and wizards than you have been taken in by You-Know-Who."

"Yes, including that husband of mine!" snapped Madame Parkinson. "That fool, and your father as well, Draco, have been down at the Ministry trying to explain how such an object ever came into their hands! This will cost us a pretty Knut to get out of, you mark my words!"

Harry privately thought that having to pay money to get out of having been in Lord Voldemort's pocket was a cheap way to escape, but he kept his mouth shut. Draco was touchy about his father's experiences "under the Imperius Curse," and he did not want to set off a quarrel in this place. The Healers, he had heard, tolerated no monkeyshines from patients or visitors.

And, speaking of Healers, one came in just about then. "I'm terribly sorry, boys and girls, but it's the end of visiting hours. Miss Parkinson is due for therapy now, and you'll have to leave." With words of farewell, and some tears from the girls, the visitors trooped out into the hall.

St. Mungo's was not the most intuitively laid-out building Harry had ever seen, and along with the others, he was soon rather lost. He didn't worry, though; he was with his Housemates and House Head, and they had hours before they had to be back at Hogwarts. As they turned a corner, they found themselves confronted by people they had not expected to meet.

Neville Longbottom was just as startled to see them as they were to see him. He recoiled slightly, nearly treading on the toes of a tall, elderly witch behind him. The witch gave them all a penetrating stare from under the brim of her hat, on which a stuffed bird sat.

"Oh! Hello, Neville! What brings you here?" Neville was a Gryffindor, and had had little or nothing to do with Harry and his clique, but Roanapur, and Balalaika, had ensured that politeness to all was an automatic response from Harry or Dudley. "Are you here to see Pansy? We just came from there, and she's on the road to recovery."

"No," said Neville, looking at the floor. "We aren't here to see Pansy."

"We're here, children, to visit my grandson's parents, who were tortured into insanity by followers of You-Know-Who!" This was from the older woman, who was apparently Neville's grandmother. "Has Neville not told you about that?" Neville shook his head miserably. "He should have! He should be proud of his parents!"

"I am," Neville mumbled.

"And so you should be!" Harry assured him. "Ma'am…please allow me to introduce myself and my friends. I'm Harry Potter, this is my cousin Dudley Dursley, and our friends: Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy…" At that name, the old woman's eyes went slightly wide and her mouth went tight… "Luna Lovegood, and our Head of House, Professor Snape."

"I am pleased to meet you," the old woman said, extending her hand to Harry for a shake. "I am Augusta Livia Longbottom, Neville's grandmother." She was looking at Draco and Professor Snape like they were something she had scraped off her shoe, and Harry made a mental note to try to find out why. He was uncomfortably aware that there were currents and cross-currents in the Wizarding World that he was not aware of; he felt rather like he might have had he been dropped into Roanapur without being aware of who the powers of the town were or what their relationships were like.

The Slytherins all bowed slightly, or curtsied if they were female, and murmured: "Madame Longbottom." At this, Madame Longbottom's manner warmed slightly, and she smiled at Ron and Ginny. "I knew your parents before…back in the war."

Just then, a blank-eyed woman with wild gray hair came shuffling up behind them. "Oh! Alice! How did you get out?" The woman put her hand on Neville's shoulder, and Harry's eyes went wide. He could see the resemblance. This woman had to be Neville's mother.

Harry seized the moment. "Is this your mother, Neville?" he asked, as politely as if he were at tea with Balalaika or Boss Chang of the Triads. At Neville's nod, Harry stepped forward, offering her his hand. "I'm pleased to meet you, ma'am. I'm in your son's year at Hogwarts. My name is Harry Potter, and these are my cousin, Dudley Dursley, and our friends." He introduced everybody, just as he had to Neville's grandmother. Harry watched everybody sharply, but he was not disappointed in their reactions. They were all just as polite and courteous as they had been earlier, and Harry heaved an inner sigh of relief. The Longbottoms, although they had fallen on bad times, were an influential family, and not having them hostile would likely be useful down the line.

Alice Longbottom was clearly well out of it. She looked vaguely at the Slytherins, and her attention was caught by Luna's blonde locks. She reached out her hand, stroking the girl's hair, and muttered: "Pretty…pretty…" Dudley watched tensely, ready to intervene if the woman tried to harm Luna, but Luna accepted her attentions calmly, and smiled when Alice did. The tension level dropped dramatically.

Right then, a Healer came bustling up. "Oh! You shouldn't be out of your ward, Madame Longbottom!" She gently began herding Neville's mother away, but not before she grabbed Neville's hand and gave him a look of pure longing. Neville blushed, and then looked at Harry and the Slytherins as though he expected them to laugh at this byplay. Harry had never felt less like laughing in his life. One look at his companions told him that they shared his views. The girls' eyes were shiny with unshed tears, and the boys all looked very solemn.

Professor Snape finally spoke up. "Your pardon, Madame Longbottom, but I must get my charges back to school. It's been a pleasure seeing you, ma'am."

"And making your acquaintance, and that of your well-mannered charges, was an unexpected pleasure, Professor. Come, Neville!" Madame Longbottom turned to go, and Neville trudged along behind her, looking as though he wished he were anywhere else in the world. Harry couldn't blame him. He imagined seeing his own parents, or Aunt Petunia, in the condition that Alice Longbottom was in, and shuddered.

It was a subdued group of Slytherins that returned to Hogwarts. When they were back in their common-room, Snape said: "I must say that I was very pleased with how you comported yourselves. You are all credits to this House. Ten points to Slytherin-apiece."

And, just as exams were winding down, Harry and Dudley were surprised by a letter directly from Balalaika. Normally, she communicated with them through Petunia Dursley while they were away; Balalaika was always aware of the difference between an employer and a parent or guardian.

_My dear boys,_

_ Your Professor Snape has written to tell us of your exploits, and I am more proud of you than words can express. Your bravery, your comradely spirit even for a Housemate you had reasons to dislike, your ingenuity, and your mannerly comportment toward your unfortunate schoolmates are all great credits to your teachers, and to Bougainvillea Traders and Hotel Moscow. _

_I was not at all pleased to hear that a dreadful monster had been sleeping in the bowels of your school, and, as you can imagine, Petunia was terrified at the news. We considered withdrawing you from that school, but Asian magical schools are very esoteric and not at all welcoming to foreign students, and the other available alternatives were all worse. However, I have written to Professor Dumbledore about this fraudulent teacher he apparently hired. The man seems to have pulled the wool over everybody's eyes, which makes being fooled by him understandable. Even so, Professor Dumbledore should have been more diligent in investigating his past._

_ You and your companions deserve great credit for putting an end to the reign of fear that had come over your school. Were this the Soviet military, I would recommend all of you for decorations and promotion. As things stand, I shall surely find ways to give you greater responsibility in our day-to-day affairs here in Roanapur. _

_ I salute you,_

_Balalaika__._

After they read the letter, Harry and Dudley both went around with such huge smiles that everybody was asking them just what had gone so well in their lives.

END Chapter 41


	42. A Ray of Sunshine

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 42

A Ray of Sunshine

by Technomad

It was a few days after Harry and Dudley had returned to Roanapur. As always, Petunia Dursley had met them at the Bangkok airport, along with a couple of Balalaika's men. Even though Petunia had lived in Asia for years, she still did not quite trust herself driving alone there, and Balalaika was happy to help out a valued employee. On the way back to Roanapur, Petunia had eagerly questioned both boys about their year in school, and been very pleased with the answers. She had calmed down considerably about the Basilisk, and was agog at the money that they had made from their shares in the payments being made for the rights to milk the creature's venom. At the news that Gilderoy Lockhart had been convicted of a long laundry-list of crimes, and was going to be spending a long time in Azkaban, her eyes glowed with satisfaction. "Serves him bloody well right for threatening my boys!" she muttered. Harry and Dudley grinned at each other behind her back.

They were in the outer reception room of Bougainvillea Trading, talking with some of Balalaika's Russians, when the phone rang. Petunia, always diligent about her work, picked it up. "Bougainvillea Traders, Petunia Dursley speaking. How can I help you?" She looked rather startled. "Why, yes, Dutch, he's right here. Shall I put him on the line?" She held out the receiver. "Harry, darling? Dutch wants to talk to you."

Puzzled, Harry picked up the phone. He'd known Dutch, and the rest of the _Black Lagoon_ crew, for years, but this was the first time that the black PT boat captain had ever called _him_. Usually, he and Dudley were sent to tell Dutch what Balalaika wanted him to know. This was unprecedented.

"Harry?" Sure enough, that was Dutch; that bass rumble was unmistakable.

"Yes, Dutch."

"Good to hear your voice. I hope you and your cousin had a good time at school? Learned a lot, did you?"

"Lots and lots! What can I do for you, Dutch?"

"Well, you know we're _primarily_ a courier service…" Harry grinned. While the _Black Lagoon_ was, ostensibly, a courier service, they did have a sideline in piracy if the price was right, and the goods they carried were often not strictly legal. "We have a delivery here for _you_. It's up here at our office."

"Oh, and you want me to come over and pick it up?" Harry was instantly wary. While he'd always got along well with the _Lagoon_ crew, he was also perfectly aware that their services were for sale to the highest bidder. Although he didn't _know_ that Voldemort had agents in place in Southeast Asia, he wouldn't have been a bit surprised to find out that such agents existed. And Voldemort, not to mention many individual Death Eaters, would pay very well for him.

"That's about the size of it. Can you come?"

"Let me talk to my aunt." Covering the receiver with his hand, Harry called out: "Aunt Petunia, Dutch says he has something for me over at the Lagoon Company's offices. He wants me to come over and pick it up. Could you ask Balalaika for the loan of a few of her men?"

Aunt Petunia's eyes narrowed. She was no longer the suburban English housewife she had been when she and Harry had first met. She had lived in Roanapur for nearly a decade, and had not survived all that time without developing street-sense. "That's an excellent idea, Harry. You…and Dudley…should be safe enough with a few of Hotel Moscow's men along, just to remind people who it is you work for."

When she was asked, Balalaika was quite willing to detail a few men. "That's excellent thinking, Petunia. Sergeant Boris is here, and I can send Privates Ivanov, Godunov and Spassky along as well. They should be all that's needed to keep things in order." The Russian woman's eyes narrowed slightly. "And _if_ the Lagoon Company's trying to pull a fast one on _me_…let us say that I got along before they set up shop here, and I can and will get along after they're gone, should that prove necessary."

Soon, Harry and Dudley were walking along, with Sergeant Boris and his men beside them, enjoying the ambience of a Roanapur morning. The smell of exhaust fumes from badly-tuned engines mingled with the odors of food being cooked, and Harry knew that he was home. He loved Britain, and his friends there, but he was never happier than when he was in Roanapur.

At the Lagoon Company's offices, they knocked at the door and were greeted by Rock, the Japanese ex-_sarariman_ who had, improbably, made a place for himself with the _Lagoon_ crew. "Harry! Dudley! Sergeant! Good to see you all again!" Harry had to smile back; the Japanese man's friendly demeanor was hard to resist. He knew it was why the Lagoon Company found Rock so very useful in negotiations. Where someone like the volatile Revy Two-Hands would likely end up in a fight, Rock could smoothly cut through conflict and somehow or other get his own way.

"Good to see you, Rock. Now, about this delivery…?"

"She's right in here." Harry's eyes went very wide, and he knew that Dudley was just as surprised as he was. Sitting in the middle of the Lagoon Company's office, looking as much at home as if she'd spent her life in Roanapur, was none other than Luna Lovegood. She gave them both a beaming smile.

"Hullo, Harry and Dudley! My, it's good to see you two again! And who are these people with you?" She bounced to her feet and came over, offering her hand to a flabbergasted Sergeant Boris. "My name is Luna Lovegood, and I go to school with these boys!"

"Uh, hi, Luna! It's good to see you, too! The tall man with the scar on his face is Sergeant Boris, and these are Privates Godunov, Ivanov and Spassky," Harry finally managed to get out. "What in the world are you doing _here…_in _Roanapur_?"

"You've told me so many interesting stories about this place, and about the nice people you work with, that I just had to see them for myself! So here I am!" Luna seemed to think that was all the explanation required.

Watching with great interest, Dutch rumbled: "She contacted us and paid us to deliver her from Pattaya to here. I haven't the faintest idea of how she got our contact information."

Luna explained: "Daddy's here in Thailand for the summer, looking for the Chinthe. I got bored in Bangkok…the city's awfully crowded, and I'm a country girl at heart. So I asked Daddy if I could come visit you, and he said 'yes.' I remembered what you told me about this place, and found out how to contact _these_ nice people from one of the local wizards."

Harry and Dudley both goggled. They had dealt with the Lagoon Company many times, mostly delivering messages for Balalaika, and while Dutch and his crew were famously reliable, the word "nice" was not often used about them. "You say they treated you well?"

"Oh yes. _That_ man in particular," Luna pointed to Rock, who smiled. "That woman who loves him wasn't very friendly at first, but after I showed her what I could do with my wand, she calmed down considerably." That did explain how Luna had arrived unscathed, aboard a small boat with Revy Two-Hands on board. Besides the standard curriculum, Slytherin had its own special extra tuition, where young Snakes were taught offensive and defensive spells in advance of where they would usually learn them in the normal course of a Hogwarts education. Luna had been a very apt pupil, winning the upper-years' praise. Not to mention what she had learned in the Duelling Association.

If Revy had been foolish enough to threaten Luna, Revy was lucky to still be alive, in Harry's estimation. Luna wouldn't deliberately _kill,_ unless she had no choice…but she'd have had no compunction about, say, Banishing Revy somewhere unpleasant. Or paralyzing her and "forgetting" to take the spell off.

And, speak of the devil…Revy Two-Hands herself came in from where Harry knew the loos were. "Hi, Harry, Dudley. We brought you your friend, all safe and sound. And, before you ask, I didn't try anything at all. Learned _my_ lesson about people with wands last summer, didn't I?" She popped open a beer. "A lot of people wouldn't believe it, but I _can _control myself. And besides," she took a long slurp of beer, sighed with pleasure, and gave Harry and Dudley a gamine grin, "if I screwed up a _delivery_, Dutch would use me for a boat anchor!"

"Well, you didn't. And after Miss Lovegood showed us a few tricks, you were even polite!" Dutch smiled. "Maybe we need to hire ourselves a wizard or witch!"

"I don't know much about the local magical community," Harry answered, as Luna came over to hug him and Dudley. "Some places, they're pretty open about who they are and what they do; others, not so much. When we get back to Britain, I can ask around; there'll be people who'll know, and if you can hire one, we'll let you know how and whom to contact. In the meantime, though, we need to figure out what to do with our friend, here. We weren't expecting her."

"Mum will see her right," said Dudley. "Come on, Luna. Let's get you back to where we belong. Thanks everso, Dutch, Revy, Rock." Harry and Dudley waved as they turned to go, and Luna slung a backpack over her shoulder, taking Dudley by the hand and smiling up at him. Dudley blushed, and Harry grinned to himself. All of the _Lagoon_ crew looked very knowing. Revy gave him a wink.

At first, the Russians were not at all sure what to make of the blonde witch. Luna, on the other hand, was utterly at ease, as she always was. She cheerfully engaged Sergeant Boris in conversation along with her two friends. To her disappointment, the three privates knew no language but Russian. "And I can't speak _any_ Russian!" she lamented. "Oh, well."

By the time they got back to Bougainvillea Traders, Harry was amused to see that the tough Sergeant Boris was wrapped around Luna's little finger. He had been all business at first, but her artless questions and clear friendliness had melted him, and he was answering her eager questions about what Russia was like, and whether there were any of the creatures her father was always looking for, as though she were a favorite niece. His men were also clearly taken by his little friend, smiling at her and making remarks in Russian about how cute and innocent she was.

Petunia Dursley's eyes went as wide as saucers when she saw who Harry and Dudley were escorting. "Oh, my God! Where did _you_ spring from?"

"Hullo, Mrs. Dursley. I've seen you at Kings Cross Station. My name is Luna Lovegood. I'm one of Harry and Dudley's housemates, and I've come to visit them." She put down her backpack and held out her hand for a shake. "Those nice people who own the _Black Lagoon_ boat were kind enough to bring me to town. Their prices were very reasonable, and the boat trip was lots of fun!"

Balalaika, curious, came out to see what had happened. Luna saw her and gave her a beaming smile. "Oh, hullo, ma'am! You must be Miss Balalaika!"

"Yes, I guess I must be. And you are…?"

"I'm Luna Lovegood. I'm in school with Harry and Dudley, and came to visit them while my Daddy's off looking for the Chinthe."

"And your father let you wander off _alone_, in a strange country?" Balalaika looked sternly disapproving. "Don't you realize how dangerous that is?"

"Oh, I have my wand, and I've got used to taking care of myself since Mummy died. Ever since then, I've taken care of myself…and Daddy, of course." Luna cocked her head to one side. "Some of the places we've been make the worst I've heard of Roanapur look like a fun faire."

"_Bozhemoi!_" Balalaika seldom showed much emotion, but this time, she was clearly croggled. Luna did have that effect on people. "In that case, Miss Lovegood, I suppose you may stay. Petunia, can you see to her needs while she's here, as you did for Miss Granger? My men have many virtues, but caring for a young girl is not on their lists of skills."

"Your Sergeant Boris was very nice to me," Luna said. "If he's an example, I look forward to meeting all your men. And in their spare time, Harry and Dudley can show me around town. If that's all right with you, ma'am?"

"Yes…yes…that sounds good. You can help the boys with their work, running errands and the like. I'll put you on the payroll, as I did for Miss Granger. Maybe we can talk again before you go. I've a business to run, but I'll try to make time for you," Balalaika promised. She was obviously eager to get her balance back.

Luna gave Balalaika a penetrating stare. "You know, you may _think_ you're a bad person, ma'am, but I don't think you are. I think you're a _good person_ who had bad things happen to you that weren't your fault." Harry, Dudley and Petunia stared at Luna in awe, then turned their eyes to Balalaika, to see how she'd react to that sort of bald statement.

Balalaika gave Luna back stare for stare. "And _you_, young lady, are one of the more perceptive people I've ever seen. I _will_ make time to talk to you." Just then, the phone rang, and Petunia picked it up. She turned pale at what she heard, and handed it to Balalaika.

"Balalaika speaking…what? _What_? _Who_ did it, and _how?_"When she finally hung up, her face was grim. "Two of my men were just shot while on their collection rounds. Whoever did it will rue the day!"

END


	43. Dark Clouds Gathering

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 43

Dark Clouds Gathering

by Technomad

Over the next few days, things in Roanapur became very tense. Men from all of the major crime syndicates were slaughtered, usually with wholesale violence far in excess of anything that was actually needed for the job. Harry and Dudley generally kept themselves to known safe places, and both of them kept a wary eye on Luna, since she didn't know the town.

Luna, herself, was unperturbed. "I'm not a member of any of the syndicates here, so why would anybody target me?" she asked. Harry and Dudley just smiled and continued guarding her any time they went out. Their wands were always close to hand, and they never went out without pistols, as well. Petunia was also never to be seen without her Makarov in its shoulder-holster under her arm.

Having Luna in Roanapur was an experience Harry would not soon forget. He and Dudley had warned Luna, in very specific language, about provoking the locals: "Even though they aren't wizards or witches, many of these people are extremely dangerous if they're crossed! So, for the love of Merlin, don't go piping up with personal questions to them! They might take it wrong, and there'd likely be a gunfight!"

Luna nodded solemnly. "I understand, Dudley. And while it's very sweet of you to be looking out for me this way, honestly, I've been following Daddy…and Mummy, when she was alive…all over the place since I was very little. I've been in dangerous places before. I know when it's safe to speak up." Harry and Dudley had to be satisfied with that, although they did not relax their vigilance. They also made a point of seeing to it that Luna visited the same leather worker who had crafted their wand-sheaths, and Luna was delighted with what he made. At Harry's quiet suggestion, the Slytherin emblem was worked into the leather, and both older boys also charmed it so that Luna wouldn't lose it or have it stolen.

They were sitting around in the Yellowflag one afternoon; Balalaika had given Harry and Dudley the afternoon off. Harry looked around. "Man alive, I don't think I've _ever_ seen so many people packing at one time! Have you, Dudley?" Dudley paused in eating a sandwich he'd ordered to shake his head.

"You mean this isn't normal for this town?" Luna asked, taking a swig of her Coke. She had never had the Muggle beverage before coming to Roanapur, and had fallen in love with it. Harry and Dudley were planning to find a way to smuggle Coke and some other Muggle drinks into Hogwarts; they figured that the Muggle-born or –raised would be willing to pay premium prices for it. And if the purebloods also developed a taste for the Pause that Refreshes…their Galleons were just as golden as anybody else's, and both boys were perfectly willing to sell to them. Visions of wealth danced in their heads. And, unlike the money from their share of the Basilisk, this would be theirs alone!

"No, Luna. People like Revy Two-Hands pack openly as a matter of course, but most of the people you see in here don't normally carry weapons." Revy was sitting up at the bar with Rock, quietly drinking and talking with Bao. Rock looked over into the corner they were in, saw them, and waved hello. The boys waved back to him; they liked the ex-_sarariman_, although they could never figure out just how he stayed alive around someone like Revy. Luna gave him a smile, just as Revy looked over to see who he was looking at and spotted them.

"Hi, Harry and Dudley! And Luna! How do you like Roanapur?" The Chinese gunsel was apparently in a friendly mood. _Or else_, thought Harry quietly, _she's acting respectful because she thinks we can turn her into a toad_. Personally, Harry didn't much mind Revy…but there were some people flapping around Roanapur whom he wouldn't have minded seeing end up on a lily pad. Whoever it was that had been shooting up the town was currently right at the top of that particular list.

"Oh, I like it fine here, Rebecca! Tell Captain Dutch and Mister Benny I said 'hello,' would you?" Luna gave Revy a beaming smile. "And hello to _you_, Rock! It's always nice to see you!"

Just then, a blonde woman came breezing in, planting herself on the stool next to Revy. "Hey, Two-Hands! How ya hangin'?" She winked at Rock, heedless of Revy's mounting anger. "Hey, hot-shot! How's about ditchin' this sow an' comin' with me for some fun?" Harry and Dudley were both startled to see that it was "Sister" Eda from the Rip-Off Church; they knew that she was no more a nun than they were, but they'd seldom seen her out of her nun's habit. Harry did think she was less obtrusive in the Yellowflag dressed in civvies, though. He liked the way she looked in her pink tank top and shorts.

Luna watched this byplay with wide eyes. "Is that woman _insane_?" she asked, her voice low enough to not be heard over the usual hubbub. Luna Lovegood did not grok fear, Harry believed, but she had heard enough from him and Dudley, and seen enough, to know just how dangerous Revy could be if provoked. Other local people who'd noticed this little bit of byplay were unobtrusively edging toward cover, or toward the doors. Bao himself was still on duty behind the bar, but looked like he was ready to duck for cover at the first sign of violence.

"Don't call me a sow, Eda," Revy snarled, through gritted teeth. "And keep your sticky fingers _off_ Rock!"

Eda was conspicuously unimpressed. "See why I say you're permanently on the rag, Two-Hands?"

Revy went red, then white with rage. "Okay, Eda, _that's it_! Let's go outside and settle this, once and for all! Come on!" Harry and Dudley both had their wands out. Luna had also followed their example. Both women were armed, and Harry and Dudley had seen them both in action before.

Luna called out: "Rebecca! Would you like me to paralyze her?" Eda turned, and went pale with fear when she saw Harry, Dudley and Luna with their wands in their hands. She clearly hadn't forgotten her encounter with Hermione, the year before.

"Oh my God…_another_ one?" Instinctively, Eda crossed herself.

Harry grinned mirthlessly. "Yes, 'another one.'"

"This isn't _fair!_" Eda howled.

"Neither is life, I believe," Dudley pointed out. "So why don't you _civilize up_ before we show the people here what we can do? What do you want to go picking a fight with Revy for, anyway?"

Nonplussed, Eda sat up and became all business. "Actually, Revy, I was here to tell you about a money-making opportunity I've heard about." At the mention of the word "money," Harry's ears pricked up and he knew Dudley was also paying very close attention.

"You mean the murders?" Revy was also riveted at the mention of money. Her eyes lit up.

"Yeah, the murders. You heard about the Caribbean Bar yet?" Eda took a slug of hooch. "It got shot up this morning, about four a.m. Fry Face is furious about it."

Luna whispered: "Is that woman talking about Miss Balalaika?"

Harry nodded. "Do not _ever_ say that name where she can hear, Luna! She doesn't like being called that!"

Luna's eyes went wide. "Oh. Thank you for warning me. I would never say anything like that to a person, though. I _know_ what it's like to be made fun of." Harry and Dudley exchanged scowls behind their friend's back. Silently, Harry promised himself a long, _long_ talk with the Slytherin girls when he got back to Scotland. _Slytherins are supposed to stick together and watch out for each other, not spend their time picking on each other!_ He privately suspected Pansy Parkinson of having been the ringleader of any such shenanigans. It was just her style.

From what Eda was telling Revy, it was a lot worse than Harry had thought. He went pale, and heard Dudley gasp, as they heard that the two Russians who had been targeted were friends of theirs. Sakharov had helped train them with weapons, and Menshkov had always been willing to make time to talk with them when he wasn't on duty. The boys knew that death walked alongside everybody in Roanapur, but having friends cut down like this was something new. Harry and Dudley exchanged grim looks.

"I think we may be going for that reward ourselves," Dudley muttered. "This has just become _personal_."

Harry nodded. The smile that spread across his face felt wonderfully evil.

Back at the apartment they lived in, Harry and Dudley pulled out a map of Roanapur. They marked the place where the Caribbean Bar had stood. "Now, let's find out where the other attacks took place. I wonder who'd know?" mused Dudley.

"The police would have to know," Harry responded. Although the Roanapur police force was corrupt and in the pockets of the local racket bosses, it did at least make a show of taking care of business, and would have complete records of every attack.

"But how would the police differentiate these attacks from any others?" wondered Luna. "I don't know much about Muggle-style police, but how would they know which were which?"

"Good question, Luna. Violence here isn't really that common; the bosses frown on it as bad for business, which is part of why they're so upset about all this. Maybe Balalaika would know, but I'm not keen at all on disturbing her. When she's angry, she's dangerous, and she _despises_ losing her men. She cares about each of them. They've been with her for years, ever since they were in the Soviet Army together."

"Maybe Mum would know?" Harry nodded at Dudley.

"Let's ask her when she comes in. She's done working in a couple of hours. In the meantime, who's for some videos?" Luna squealed happily. She had never seen Muggle-style videos before coming to Roanapur, and had taken to them with a convert's enthusiasm. Unsurprisingly, she particularly loved fantasies, particularly those featuring exotic creatures.

When Petunia Dursley came in, she was charmed at what she saw. Her son and nephew were sitting on the sofa watching the animated _Hobbit_, with Luna Lovegood comfortably ensconced between them and a bowl of popcorn on the coffee table in front of them. All three also had opened bottles of Coke close by.

"That looks like a good idea. May I join you?" she asked. The children budged up willingly to make room; Luna had been happy to be able to spend time with an older woman, and Petunia had fallen in love with "the poor motherless waif" the second she saw Luna. Harry privately thought that his aunt rather regretted that she'd never had a daughter of her own.

After the movie ended, they discussed what to do next. Dinner soon commanded a unanimous "aye" vote, and Petunia had all three younger people working to put together a meal. Luna had been a little lost in a Muggle-style kitchen at first, but she was a quick learner, and knew a good deal about cooking. "I do most of the cooking at our home," she explained. "Daddy's a dear, but he does tend to produce some spectacular disasters if turned loose in a kitchen!"

"I've been making sure that both my boys can shift for themselves if they need to. I may not always be available, and I don't like the thought of them living in squalor because they've not been taught basic household skills," Petunia said, pausing in her tasks to give Luna a quick one-armed hug. "But you're _such_ a little love, taking care of your Daddy the way you seem to."

Over dinner, the subject of the murders came up, and Petunia proved to be very informative. "Balalaika warned us to all be on the lookout for two children, a boy and a girl with nearly-white hair and grey eyes." She looked at Dudley and Luna. "It might be a good idea for you two to dye your hair, at least until this is over. You don't look much like the descriptions we were given, but there are enough trigger-happy people in this town to make it dangerous for you."

"Will do, Mum," Dudley said. When she used that tone, he and Harry both knew it was serious. Luna didn't say anything, but nodded, her wide eyes fixed on Petunia.

Petunia was willing to tell them about where the attacks had taken place, and they were soon marking them on the map. "This is a good idea, boys. Systematic analysis of where these people have struck can possibly help us figure out any patterns, and predict where they may strike at next."

"What is known about them?"

"They are described as a boy and a girl, about your age, dressed in black clothes, sort of like old-fashioned mourning. The girl's carrying a long cloth-wrapped package. Inside that package is a machine-gun of some sort; the police say that the cartridge cases they found at the Caribbean Bar look like they were fired by a Browning Automatic Rifle." Petunia shook her head, hardly able to believe what she was about to say. "The Browning Automatic Rifle is a load for a grown man, but apparently the girl can fire it on full automatic from a standing position. The boy carries an axe." Harry and Dudley exchanged glances. They knew how difficult it would be to fire a Browning Automatic Rifle that way.

"At least they'll have a hard time hiding. This town is not that big, and Westerners do stand out," Harry mused. "Unless someone is hiding them."

"All of the main syndicates report losing people," Petunia answered. "If someone's hiding them, it's someone not on the radar screen."

"Or one of the syndicates is lying," Dudley said quietly.

END


	44. Serendipity Happens

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 44

Serendipity Happens When You Least Expect It

by Technomad

The next few days were very tense. Harry and Dudley both kept very quiet when they were around Bougainvillea Traders' offices; Petunia reported that Balalaika was in a vicious foul mood. While they didn't fear their employer, they knew that she was one of the most ruthless killers in town. And there was a first time for anything, so why take chances, was their logic.

Dudley and Luna both took precautions against trigger-happy people mistaking them for the fugitives and trying to collect the reward. Instead of dyeing their hair, they used magic to change it from blonde to bright, glaring red. The first time they went down the Yellowflag with that, Revy saw them and her eyes went wide.

"Dudley! You've gone ginger, and so has your friend!" Rock, Benny, and Dutch looked over and smiled to see the three kids.

"Hi, Revy!" Dudley waved at the Chinese gunsel. "And hello to the rest of you! What's been going on in your lives?"

"Not much," rumbled Dutch. As captain of the _Black Lagoon_, he often took the lead in conversations. "Everybody in town's nervous, wondering where and at whom those maniacs will strike next." He pointed to some chairs. "Why don't you pull up chairs and sit with us? It's safer that way. The more guns…and wands…we've got, the less chance there is that we'll be victims."

"Sounds good to me," Harry answered, pulling the chair Dutch had pointed to up next to the table. As usual, Dutch made a lot of sense. Rock was smart, but Harry privately thought that the PT boat's captain was at least a little smarter_. If only because he avoided getting mixed up with Revy Two-Hands…_Harry clamped down on _that _thought firmly. He didn't know for sure, but he sometimes thought Revy had a trace of Legilemency. She'd sometimes been uncannily perceptive.

Sergeant Boris came in, staring at nothing. Without a word to anyone, he stepped up to the bar. Bao looked at him and pulled out a whole bottle of vodka. Boris signed the tab automatically, opened the bottle and poured a huge slug down, not bothering with a glass.

Harry's eyes narrowed. He had known Sergeant Boris for most of his life and had never known him to behave in such a way. He drank…what Russian _didn't?_ Even Balalaika was no slouch with a vodka bottle. But normally, he kept himself under control. Boris took his work, and his command over his men, very seriously, just as Balalaika herself did. To see him drinking like this meant very serious trouble. Harry and Dudley went up to the bar beside him, with Luna right behind them.

"Er…is something wrong?" Dudley asked.

"Yes…" said Boris. His voice sounded like something coming out of a grave. "We found Sakharov."

"Oh?"

"He'd been dragged away by those two…you know who I mean, don't you?" Dudley, Luna and Harry all nodded. "Well, we found him." He took another huge slug of vodka. "I never saw anything worse in my life. Not even in Afghanistan, when we'd recover the bodies of comrades the _mujahideen_ had been at." He drank again, looking distinctly green.

Harry felt sick. Petunia did not approve, but he and Dudley had heard many tales of Afghanistan, usually late at night when they were around Bougainvillea Trading's offices waiting to be sent on errands. Some of the men following Balalaika _would_ drink, and when drunk, they would tell stories. Harry had long since privately resolved that Afghanistan was one place he was well content to stay out of. Compared to Afghanistan, Roanapur was boring, safe and middle-of-the-road.

Harry and Dudley looked at each other. Sergeant Boris was bleeding inside, and they didn't know what to do for their friend. Luna, however, _did_. She came over and put her arm around the Russian's broad shoulders. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she said: "I understand. You're very sad for your friend, and don't like the way he died. Daddy gets this way sometimes, when he misses Mummy more than usual. You'll see your friends again, I'm sure of it. But right now, it hurts."

Luna's gentle sympathy got through, and Boris' self-control crumbled. He sobbed aloud, and Harry and Dudley cast a Notice-me-Not charm. If any of the few other customers had dared to say anything, the boys would have hexed that person to a fare-thee-well.

Dutch stood up. "I think it's time we called it a night, people. Harry, I think I can trust you to see the Sergeant home safely, right?" The _Black Lagoon_ crew got up to go, leaving Harry, Dudley, Luna and Boris as the only customers in the bar. For a second, Revy had looked like she wanted to let out some smart crack, but she'd seen the wands in the boys' hands, and the looks in their eyes, and had visibly thought better of it. Harry wondered, absently, if that was Rock's good influence. Revy Two-Hands was not known for letting her intellect rule her impulses.

Some hours later, the three friends helped the stumbling, mumbling sergeant back to Bougainvillea Trading. When they came in, Petunia gasped, before running forward to help them. "You heard about Private Sakharov, then?" she asked gently, taking Boris' arm over her shoulders and letting him rest a lot of his weight on her. Petunia was skinny, but she was wiry and in good condition. That was yet another part of working for Balalaika. She made very sure that all of her employees were fit and in good shape, even going to the length of providing a gym and instructions for those who needed them.

And, speak of the Devil…Balalaika came out of her office to see what was going on. "I see you brought Sergeant Boris back to us. I shall have the men put him to bed. He took the news about poor Private Sakharov very hard. We all did. Thank you for being so helpful, Petunia. You may expect a reward in your next pay packet."

"No, ma'am." Balalaika's eyes went very wide. Someone refusing money in Roanapur was one of the Biblical signs of the Apocalypse, in many people's eyes. "_I_ didn't bring him back here. Harry, Dudley and their little friend Luna did. They should get the bonus. Not me."

Balalaika's expression was unreadable for a second, before she broke out in a huge smile. "For your honesty, Petunia, I _shall_ increase your next pay packet, _and _give bonuses to all three of our young friends. I value honesty in my employees, and reward it. In a military situation, a commander needs accurate, reliable information, not information that happens to be tailored to whatever makes her feel good."

Petunia, Dudley, Harry and Luna all broke out in smiles. After Balalaika left, Petunia commented: "You know, the men of Hotel Moscow would follow that woman into Hell…and I understand why. If all Russian officers had been like her, the USSR would have ruled the world!" Luna looked puzzled; a pureblood from a rather sheltered background, she clearly didn't understand all Petunia had said. Petunia patted her head and said "I'll explain later, poppet."

The funerals for Menshkov and Sakharov were the next day, and all four English employees of Bougainvillea Trading attended, along with all of Hotel Moscow, and representatives of the other Roanapur mobs. The coffins were all but invisible beneath piles of floral tributes. As the Orthodox priest intoned prayers and sang, Petunia sobbed openly, and Luna wept silent tears. Harry and Dudley kept their faces rigidly impassive, as did the Russians, but tears wet their cheeks despite all they could do. Luna stood next to Sergeant Boris, and did all she could to wordlessly comfort him.

As chief mourner, Balalaika was first to throw dirt on the coffins. Only she, and her Afghan veterans, were so privileged. "Only a _comrade _throws dirt on a comrade" was their motto. When she stepped away from the graveside, Harry caught a glimpse of her face, and shivered inside. Whenever she had had that expression on before, people had died. She had taken the deaths of her men very personally, and for a second, Harry almost felt sorry for the people who had done it. Then he remembered what Sakharov had looked like. By some mistake, he had been let into the morgue, and he had caught a glimpse before being hustled out by a scandalized Sawyer. No, he decided. He didn't feel sorry for whoever had done this. Not at all.

Finally, the last prayers were sung, the ceremonial rifle salutes were fired, the graves were filled, and the ordeal was over. The mourners filed into hired limousines to go back into Roanapur; the _farang _graveyard was a little way out of town. At Bougainvillea Trading, the mood was very subdued, and nobody said much.

As day wore on into evening, Harry finally said: "Dudley, I don't know about you, but I'm sick of moping around here. Let's go on into town. Maybe hit the Yellowflag. Luna, you want to come?"

Luna nodded. "Oh yes. I'm not so sad for Privates Menshkov and Sakharov…I know I'll see them again, just as I will my Mummy…but seeing all of you so sad makes _me_ sad. And when I'm sad, my throat hurts. A drink at the Yellowflag would be just the thing!"

"We'd best tell Balalaika where we're going." Harry went over and knocked on their employer's office door. At her "Enter," he went in and told her where they were going.

"Go on ahead. You're able to take care of yourselves, I think." Balalaika was standing, looking out the window, not really seeing the sun setting over Roanapur. "Wear your pistols, carry your cell phones, keep your wands handy, don't get separated, and if you run into any trouble, call the office immediately!"

"Yes ma'am. Thank you, ma'am." Soon, all three friends were headed down the street toward the Yellowflag, where they hoped to find cheerful companionship, at least.

All of a sudden, they heard a roar of gunfire. Instinctively, Harry and Dudley ducked behind cover, pulling a curious Luna with them. Dudley pointed up at a window, where they could see lights flashing.

"That's Verocchio's place! The crazy shooters must be shooting it up!" After a minute, the shooting died down, and on the street level, a door opened and two tow-headed kids about their own age, a boy and girl, came running out. "Merlin's beard! Is that…_them_?"

Harry had thought his voice was low, but the two oddly-dressed young people heard. The girl gave a tinkling laugh and unlimbered a long object she had been carrying wrapped up in a blanket. Harry's eyes widened in horror as he recognized a Browning Assault Rifle, leveled at him!

"Duck! _Incoming_!" he screamed, as the girl opened fire, spraying the street with .30-06 fire. All three friends hit the dirt, as bullets whined and _ting_ed off concrete and brick. When the three raised their heads, it was just in time to see the two attackers scampering off, down an alley.

Harry flipped open his cell phone, speed-dialing Bougainvillea Trading. "Aunt Petunia? It's me, Harry! We just ran across those two maniacs who shot up Balalaika's men! They look to have shot up Verocchio's headquarters, and they're going down an alley! We're on their tail!" Shutting the phone, he, Dudley and Luna leaped after their enemies.

All three of them were in good shape, and they were able to keep the two fugitives in sight, but didn't dare get too close. Harry wasn't sure whether their spells would avail much against machine-gun fire, and didn't care to find out that they wouldn't the hard way. Balalaika, before Hogwarts, and his teachers at Hogwarts, had all drilled into him that caution could save his life.

He could all but hear Balalaika's contralto, with its slight Russian accent: "Hot-dogging will get you killed, Harry. _Don't_ go trying to earn any medals. Just do your job and medals, if they happen, will happen in their own good time." As always, Balalaika's advice was good. He had told Professor Snape about it, and the Potions Master had said that Balalaika was very wise and he hoped one day to make her acquaintance.

Peering cautiously around a corner, he saw the two strangers talking to what looked like a couple of local Thai kids. Some money passed hands, and the Thai kids turned and climbed into a Japanese sedan with tinted windows. The car's headlights lit up, the engine started, and it moved off, tentatively at first, and then with greater confidence once it got out into the main streets. Behind it, the boy and girl hugged gleefully, laughing that high, cold laugh that reminded Harry uncomfortably of Lord Voldemort.

"Dudley! Call Balalaika! Let her know that there's a decoy car out on the street, driven by two kids who look like the people who shot up her bars!" Dudley yanked out a cell and speed-dialled Bougainvillea Trading, while Harry and Luna kept the boy and girl in sight.

END Chapter 44


	45. The Dark Side of the Moon

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 45

The Dark Side of the Moon

by Technomad

Keeping the two killers in sight proved to be difficult, at best. They were very elusive, taking full advantage of every shadow and corner, as they slipped down Roanapur's darkest back alleys with an aplomb equal to a lifelong resident of the city. Harry, Luna and Dudley had to run, all-out, when they could, just to keep from losing track of them.

Out across the town, they could hear a roaring crescendo of automatic-weapons fire, culminated by an explosion. Harry and Dudley looked at each other knowingly. "Guess that the decoys found out that taking this job wasn't such a good idea," Dudley said dryly.

Luna looked puzzled. "What do you mean, Dudley?"

Dudley looked down fondly at their little friend. "What you just heard, Luna, was the sound of two fools being collected by Father Darwin." Luna still looked blank, so Dudley explained further: "The killers we're tracking paid those two Thai kids to drive their car out of town, probably knowing that people were looking for that particular car. Sure enough, it was tracked, and there's a huge reward out for them, alive or dead, so the car got shot up."

"But…wouldn't that _kill_ them?" Luna looked horrified. Harry was amused for a moment, but then he remembered that for all her courage and her travels, Luna had been sheltered in ways that he and Dudley hadn't. Both boys nodded. Luna's eyes went very wide. "Oh, those poor children! How could those two have been so cruel to them?"

"Luna," Dudley said gently, "those two are cruel to everybody. Private Sakharov didn't do anything to them, as far as we know. They not only shot him, but _dragged him away and tortured him horribly_, just for fun!"

"Shooting him was one thing, and if they're working for another boss trying to move in, that's excusable. It's all part of the game. But torturing him that way was unforgivable," Harry said. "Balalaika sees it as a deliberate insult."

"Do you think they were doing it to try to make her angry enough to lose her good judgement?" Luna asked. Harry's eyes went wide and he looked at Dudley. Both boys shook their heads.

"You do have a talent for asking cogent questions, poppet," Dudley finally said. He opened his mouth to say more, but both boys' phones vibrated; in Roanapur, cell phones seldom made noise.

Over the phone came Balalaika's voice: "Boys, I'm pulling you back. It turns out that you were right; that car was a decoy. Bring Luna along, and get back to HQ as fast as you can!"

"You heard the lady! Come on, Dudley, Luna! We've got to go!" The three turned and ran for home. In a few minutes, Harry and Dudley were thundering through the door. They skidded to a stop in front of Petunia's desk.

Petunia gave them a look of relief, mixed with wonder. "Oh, thank God, you're back! And safe and sound!" She looked around. "But…where's Luna?"

Harry and Dudley looked around. Harry felt like his blood was turned into ice water when he didn't see Luna. "Uh…she was right with us, just now! Dudley, _where the __Hell__ is __Luna_?"

"I don't know! She was right with us!" Dudley's face was white with fear. He looked at Harry, and Harry could see that his cousin was screaming inside. Just like he was.

Luna picked herself up. She'd been right with the boys; she was one of the fastest runners in her year at Hogwarts. The other girls teased her that when she decided she wanted a boyfriend, she could just go out and run down the one she wanted, before dragging him back to her lair and working her wicked will…whatever _that_ meant. She shook her head to clear it. The boys had disappeared; they had been running all-out when she'd tripped and fallen, and they hadn't noticed she wasn't still with them.

Other girls would have been worried. She was not other girls. She was Luna Lovegood, she was a witch, and she did not grok fear. She looked up, instinctively looking for the stars, only to be reminded that this was a city alley, not the countryside she was more familiar with. Even so, she had her wand, and she felt more than equal to dealing with any situation that was thrown at her. She began moving off down the alley, noting in passing that one of her ankles had been twisted, which would slow her up.

Before she could get far, though, she had company. The blond boy and girl they had been tracking were on either side of her, smiling unsettling smiles. Before she could get away, she was grabbed and her arm twisted behind her back. And, worse luck, it was the arm that had her wand in its leather sheath lying alongside her forearm.

"Oh, look, _sora mea_! It's that girl who was following us!" The boy's voice was high and sweet; it put Luna in mind of ice breaking under her feet on a pond, too far from shore to get there safely. His smile…Luna had seen friendlier smiles on sharks. His eyes were the same color as hers were, but looking into them was like staring into endless fathoms of ice.

"What shall we do with her, _fratele meu_? I think she's one of those English who work for the Russian lady…the lady we were brought here to kill!" The girl laughed a tinkling laugh. "Wouldn't it be funny if we killed _her_? We killed the Italians who brought us here, and _that_ was _funny_!" Luna decided that she did not like these two, not one little bit she didn't.

"We could kill her…but I have a better plan! We still want to kill the Russian lady, don't we?"

"Oh, yes, _fratele meu_! Killing her would be such fun!" The girl looked sad for a moment. "But getting close to her is so difficult…"

"We now have a way to make her let us get close!" The boy's eyes gleamed, and he whispered into his sister's ear. As he whispered, she smiled, more and more broadly.

"Oh, that's a wonderful idea, _fratele meu_! They're soft, aren't they? They'd fall for that trick in a second!"

Luna cleared her throat. "You don't have to do this, you know! You don't _have to _kill Miss Balalaika!" Both twins looked at her like she was furniture that had suddenly spoken to them. "If the people who hired you are dead, you can just leave the city and nobody will be the wiser!"

"It isn't that we _have to_ kill the Russian woman…" the boy purred, leaning in closer than Luna liked, and looking at her like he was trying to see through her clothes. Luna was no coward, but she really didn't like the way he was looking at her.

"It's that we _want to_!" The girl, holding Luna's arm, laughed as though she'd just heard the jolliest joke ever told. "_Not_ killing people…_pooh_! Who ever heard of such an outlandish idea?"

"We have to kill more and _more_ and _more_ people, so that we can live on and on!" With that, the boy suddenly punched her one, and Luna felt like the world had exploded, before she fell down a deep, dark well into absolute blackness.

When Harry and Dudley reported in to Balalaika, the Russian crime queen was displeased, but only showed it by the narrowing of her eyes. "I shall put out an alert to my own men, and tell the other bosses…Chang, Abrego, and the Thais at least; I am not sure if Verrocchio or his men are still among the living…to be on the lookout for her. I shall also report her missing to Chief Watsap. The local police are fairly worthless, but this _may _be a job that's up to their _meager_ talents. Let them _earn_ the bribes I pay them for once."

"Thank you, ma'am!" gasped Harry.

"Ma'am…" sniffled Dudley, who was holding back tears by main force, "I'm so sorry! If we get her back, please don't punish her! It was all my fault!"

Balalaika's eyes went wide. "While I appreciate your willingness to accept blame, Dudley Vernonivich, I do not believe that, at this time, any blame should properly attach to you. I dislike punishing those who have done no wrong."

"But I was supposed to be watching out for her…"

"You are not her father, nor her military superior, nor her teacher, nor her employer, Dudley Vernonivich. And she strikes me as a singularly level-headed young woman, whose eccentric manner conceals a great deal of intelligence and courage. Even if she has fallen into evil circumstances, she may well win herself free. We may see her walking on in here with a tale of adventure, or at least, of getting a bit lost in those alleys, before too long." Balalaika almost smiled. "That said, your willingness to accept responsibility for your friend, and your recognition that you may have erred, speaks very well for you."

When they were dismissed, both boys sagged with relief. Harry, at least, had expected to be raked right over the coals by Balalaika, and thought that he deserved it richly. Luna had travelled before, to be sure, but most of her travels had taken her to the wild, remote places where she and her Daddy thought that the rare creatures they endlessly pursued lived. She was not nearly as streetwise as he and Dudley were, and he now thought that letting her come along to the Yellowflag had been an insanely risky decision.

However, night turned into day, and there was no sign of Luna. Neither Petunia, Dudley nor Harry had got a wink of sleep; they'd paced around Bougainvillea Trading's offices all night long, hoping desperately to see Luna come ambling in with her usual air of bemused good will for all. They had left a note at their apartment, telling Luna to either call or come to Bougainvillea Trading. But the phone remained silent.

Balalaika and Sergeant Boris were concerned, too, but they had other things to think about. "We have come up with a plan to draw those two out of hiding. Your information that I was the main target, and that the Italians were behind it, helped us formulate it," she told them.

When she explained, both boys were horrified. "Ma'am…you mustn't risk it! You mustn't risk yourself! You're indispensable!" Dudley cried.

Balalaika smiled slightly and patted his cheek. "Dudley Vernonovich…I read somewhere that 'the graveyards are full of indispensable men.' You're sweet to worry about me…and Sergeant Boris, here, shares your concerns…but I think I shall be all right. I was risking my life for my country long before either of _you_ were born, and risking my life for my men is nothing I can not handle."

Harry thought fast…he did not like this plan at all! "Ma'am…may I suggest a slight alteration of the original plan? It won't affect much…" He talked as fast as he could, and when he was done, Balalaika and Sergeant Boris exchanged significant glances.

"Harry, I would be pleased to take your suggestions. And I think I can speak for the Sergeant when I say that we are both proud of you and Dudley." Harry blushed bright red.

The sun shone down brightly on Roanapur's main public square. Balalaika sat at ease on a bench near two large bushes, with the square open in front of her, and none of her men in sight. She pulled out a cigar, cut off the end, lit it, and took a long, refreshing drag. She narrowed her eyes, partly in pleasure at the fine taste of the Cuban tobacco, and partly because she'd seen movement at the other end of the square. The plan was coming together.

"You may come out, you two," she called, her voice as calm as if she were merely ordering dinner. "I can see you over there."

Sure enough, the tow-headed twins came out, their white-blond hair gleaming in the bright Thai sunlight. The girl was dragging what looked like a half-conscious Luna Lovegood with her, holding a knife to the English witch's throat. "How did you see us?"

"I saw you moving." At their crestfallen expressions, Balalaika hastened to add: "Oh, you hid very well. I think that your prisoner may have hampered you, though."

"She did." The girl's high, sweet voice sounded like a character in an old Russian children's video. "Without dragging her along, we could have made better time."

"But we are here. And you won't hurt us, or let us be hurt, will you, ma'am?" The boy sounded very sure. "If you do, at the first sign of trouble, she _dies_!"

"Oh, she _does_, does she?" Balalaika's manner was as easy as if she were discussing something of no great import. "And you believe she matters to me _because_…?"

"We know she works for you, ma'am. You care about everybody that's _yours_. We're much more free and happy than you are. The only people in the world we care about are each other." Both twins gave her beaming smiles.

"The others…like you…only exist so we can kill them. The more we kill, the more we live. We kill so that we can live on, and on, and on."

By this time, the twins were closer, and Balalaika's keen sniper's eye had noticed something. Luna was not nearly as dazed as she was letting on she was, although she looked battered, and had one eye nearly closed with a bruise. She was stumbling along, with the girl's knife at her throat, and at a glance she looked utterly out of it, but her eyes gave it away. Luckily, the girl couldn't see her face, and the boy was focused solely on Balalaika.

As the twins talked, Luna gently slipped her wand out of its arm sheath. She looked straight at Balalaika, and Balalaika nodded once, briefly.

_"Petrificus Totalus! Incarcerus!"_ All of a sudden, the monstrous twins were first paralyzed, then tied up, neat as ninepence. Luna stepped away from them, slipping her wand back into its sheath and dusting her hands daintily, as though she had done nothing more than dirty them slightly at a formal tea.

Harry and Dudley emerged from the bushes, their wands in their hands. Their faces bore identical expressions of wonder and respect. "That was _beautiful_, Luna!" Harry gasped. "Professors Snape and Flitwick will be so proud when they hear of this!"

Dudley was more direct. "Come here, Luna!" He opened his arms, and Luna flew into them. Dudley hugged Luna hard, and Luna hugged him back. "Never scare me that way again, Luna!" Dudley sobbed.

"Don't be so upset, Dudley. I was never in any real danger. I knew you'd be nearby, and if I couldn't get my own wand out, you would take care of me. I'm always safe with you!" They hugged again, even harder.

Meanwhile, Balalaika was standing over the terrified twins, who clearly couldn't understand how the tables had been turned so neatly. "Overconfidence." Balalaika shook her head sadly, deploring the sins and weaknesses of mortal man. "It has been the downfall of better than the likes of _you_."

"What do you plan to do with them, ma'am?" Harry was looking at the two captives curiously, but with no compassion. His green eyes were hard as emerald.

"I don't know. I…" Suddenly, Balalaika found herself confronted by Luna, who was standing between her and the twins. Her wand was in her hand, but not pointed.

"I _beg_ your pardon, ma'am, but they are not _your_ captives. They are _mine. I_ captured them." Luna's tone was perfectly respectful, but her chin was out and she gave Balalaika stare for stare.

"Oh, they are?" Balalaika raised an eyebrow. "And what do you plan to do with them, Miss Lovegood?" She snorted slightly. "Keep them as pets? I'd think that homicidal maniacs such as they would tax the ingenuity even of witches and wizards!" At those words, the twins began sweating, their eyes wide with terror.

"Oh, we have many options. Daddy and I can keep them restrained, with the help of the Thai Ministry of Magic, and get them back to England. Once there, we can put them into St. Mungo's Hospital. If they can't do anything…and the people at St. Mungo's are very, very good…there's always the Dementor's Kiss." Luna smiled.

"What is the Dementor's Kiss?" Balalaika, against her will, was curious. She thought about the implications of a whole secret world of wizards and witches existing side-by-side with the world she knew. It only made sense that they had hospitals. But "Dementors" was a new one.

"A Dementor, ma'am, is sort of a spirit of unhappiness and despair. Even being near them is dreadful; they feed by draining happy memories away from their victims. We use them as guards over the wizarding prison of Azkaban. They can suck the soul out of someone by 'kissing' them. Someone who's been Kissed is a mindless, soulless husk. They breathe, they live, but everything they ever were is gone. A living zombie." Balalaika felt her stomach twist, and she stared at the blonde English witch as though Luna had grown a second head.

Balalaika had not known Luna long, but she had figured out that Luna Lovegood did not ever lie directly, and generally knew what she was talking about. If she said such a thing was possible, it was possible. "You'll make sure they never come back here?"

"Never. Our Mind-Healers can scrub their brains clean, and when we're done, they'll never want to kill again!"

Balalaika would have much preferred to have killed the terrible twins slowly, but she had learned a very healthy respect for wands, witches in general, and Luna Lovegood very much in particular. "Very well. You may keep them. And you shall receive the rewards that have been offered for their capture.

Just keep them restrained and put them in the hands of this Thai Ministry of Magic. If they get loose, though, they are _mine_." Balalaika's smile was pure predator at that thought.

"Oh, I understand, ma'am. Harry? Dudley?" Both boys were gaping at Luna as though they'd never seen her before. "Could one of you find me a felly-tone? I don't know where there's a Floo connection around here, but I know the felly-tone number for the Thai Ministry of Magic's foreign liaison."

"Can do." Dudley hauled out his cell, activated it and handed it to Luna. His other hand held his wand, and he covered the twins while Luna punched buttons. Both cousins were gobsmacked to see Balalaika backed down, and by sweet, mild-mannered Luna, of all people!

END Chapter 45


	46. Goodbye and Hello

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 46

Goodbye and Hello

After the terrible twins had been taken into custody by the Thai Ministry of Magic, one of the Thais handed Luna a letter. "This is for you, Miss Lovegood." Luna bowed politely in the local style as she took the letter, and the Thais all smiled to see that at least one _farang_ in this misbegotten hole of a town understood and respected their customs.

Once the Thais had gone, Luna opened her letter. She gave a smile of pure joy. "Oh! Daddy found the Chinthe, and turned it over to the Thai Ministry. He wants to head back to Britain, and says I should plan to join up with him. He's in Pattaya right now, so I can hire the _Black Lagoon_ again."

"You may use my telephone to contact the Lagoon Couriers, Miss Lovegood," Balalaika said. She had overseen the transfer of the twins into the custody of the Thais, along with her faithful Sergeant Boris. Under her cold eye, and the muzzle of Boris' pistol, all had gone very smoothly.

"Thank you, Miss Balalaika. And thank you for your kindness while I've been here. I can see why Harry and Dudley both speak so highly of you. Seeing you in action every day must have been an inspiration to them." Luna took the prooffered telephone and began punching buttons with aplomb; a few tutorials from Dudley had taught her all she needed to know to handle a portable phone. When she was done talking, she handed the phone back, and stretched up to kiss Balalaika on one scarred cheek. Balalaika's eyes went very wide.

Once she had exited the room, Balalaika and Boris shared identically nonplussed looks. This was not the first time that Luna had blindsided them. Finally, Balalaika spoke. "You know, Sergeant, I have been called many things in my lifetime. 'Kind' is a new one, though. So is 'inspiring.'" She paused for a moment. "And she's the only person who's kissed me, since…" Absently, she rubbed her cheek, clearly not quite believing what had happened.

"With respect, Captain, you inspire us all. Miss Lovegood is just more open about saying so." Boris saw something at that moment that most people in Roanapur would have sworn was impossible. Balalaika blushed like a little girl for a second, before turning away and briskly turning her attention to the day's ration of work.

A few days later, the _Black Lagoon_ was heading northwest across the Gulf of Thailand, under a cloudless blue sky. Luna was on deck, with Harry and Dudley beside her, revelling in the beautiful weather and exclaiming at the sight of flying fish. Dutch was on the bridge, steering the PT boat toward Pattaya, straight and true. Down in his lair, Benny was monitoring the locals' frequencies; although as far as they knew nobody was particularly angry at, or looking for, the _Black Lagoon_, caution was always called for.

Petunia Dursley was sitting in a chair on the stern deck, not far away from Harry, Dudley and Luna. She had been a bit leery of taking the PT boat, but she was not about to let her boys, or Luna, out of her sight until Luna was safely returned to her Daddy and her boys were safe back in Roanapur. Unlike everybody else, she was strapped into a lifejacket. Dutch had sternly insisted on that, after finding out that she couldn't swim.

Rock and Revy were up on the foredeck, keeping watch. Or, at least, Revy was keeping watch and Rock was keeping her company. The Chinese-American gunsel was sharp-eyed, but tended to become bored with watch-standing, so having Rock up there with her was a good idea. Or so Dutch had said, and Harry and Dudley were not inclined to gainsay the _Lagoon_'s captain.

The run at sea was smooth, and they were soon nosing into the harbor at Pattaya. The locals had seen the Black Lagoon before, and accepted her presence calmly enough, particularly when some crisp green reason had been applied by Rock. Watching Rock deal with the local officials, Harry felt nothing but admiration. The Japanese man was as slick as could be; to see him in action was an education.

"Can you imagine him in Slytherin?" Dudley muttered, in Russian. They knew that Rock could understand Russian, but the rest of the _Lagoon_ crew did not, and they did like privacy.

Harry nodded, understanding completely. "If he were magical and at Hogwarts, Snape might just find that he had a worthy successor as House Head!"

"Forget Snape," Dudley snorted. "As smooth an operator as Rock is, I think he'd be Headmaster in short order!" Both boys laughed quietly. Petunia, who could follow the byplay, gave them a sharp look, but said nothing.

After the _Black Lagoon_ was made fast to the pier, the English contigent disembarked. Luna paid Dutch for her passage, ceremoniously handing him the money and then shaking his hand. She then shook Benny's hand, and Rock's. Last in line was Revy.

Revy looked uncertain, which was a new one; Harry had known her for years and one thing that he would not have ever expected to see was Revy less than certain about what to do. Finally, under Dutch's stern stare, Revy held out her hand. "Goodbye, Miss Lovegood. I hope you had a nice trip with us."

"Goodbye, Rebecca. It was nice getting to know you." Before Revy could react, Luna reached out and hugged her. Harry could see a moment's panic in her eyes at being unexpectedly grabbed, and Rock signalling her to relax. Revy wrapped her arms around Luna, visibly deciding to accept the caress.

When they broke apart, Luna looked deep into Revy's eyes. "I think you're a better person than you think you are, Rebecca. One day you may understand what I'm telling you." She turned and went over to Dudley, leaving Revy looking slightly thunderstruck, and the rest of the _Lagoon_ crew staring after her.

When they were away from the wharves, Dudley asked: "Luna, what did you mean by that?"

"Yes, I'd like to know, too," said Petunia, who had been slightly horrified to see anybody treat Revy Two-Hands so familiarly. Even though she knew that, as a paying passenger, there was little real danger to Luna in what she had done, she also knew that Revy could have reacted by reflex before thinking about what she was doing. To Petunia, as to most of Roanapur, Revy Two-Hands was like a bottle of nitroglycerine on legs. And, like a bottle of nitroglycerine, if you jostled her in the wrong way she would explode.

"I can _see_ that Rebecca Lee had bad things happen to her when she was very young," Luna answered, her face as solemn as it ever got. "That's a big part of why she is the way she is. Down deep, she hates the world because she can't forget what she went through. I hope Rock can get through to her that things can be better for her some day."

Harry and Dudley traded glances. In most cases, they thought that Divination was a wooly-minded subject best avoided. Snape had been scathing about it when asked about possible course choices by the second-years. However, they did know that the true Talent existed. Did Luna have it? They didn't know.

Just then, they met Xenophilius Lovegood. He and Luna ran into each other's arms with happy cries, and Harry noticed Aunt Petunia wiping away a few tears. _She'll miss Luna. And us, too_. Suddenly he felt bad for his aunt, left all alone in Roanapur while her boys were away.

Dudley obviously was thinking along the same lines. He put his arm around his mother's waist. "We're sorry we have to go away to school, Mum," he murmured.

Petunia put one arm around Dudley's shoulders, and the other one around Harry's shoulders, pulling both her boys close. "I knew the day had to come," she said softly. "Roanapur doesn't have any schools for boys your age. If it hadn't been Hogwarts, I was thinking about some of the expats' schools in Bangkok or Singapore."

"At least Hogwarts isn't costing you anything, Mum," Dudley said. At that reminder, Petunia's face brightened. She was a thrifty soul, and saving money always made her happy. She had applied that to the finances of Bougainvillea Trading and Hotel Moscow, and had increased both enterprises' profitability, which was one of the reasons that Balalaika valued her services. Her men were hell-on-wheels in fights, and well able to intimidate recalcitrant thugs into cooperating with Balalaika's plans, but for most of them, handling the finances of a business was far beyond their abilities.

Once they were able to bear letting go of each other, Luna and Xenophilius turned to the Dursleys and Harry. "You must be Mrs. Dursley," said Xeno. "I'm Xenophilius Lovegood, and I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking such good care of my daughter. Apparently she hadn't told you she was coming. I do apologize; when she gets focussed on something she can often forget important details. I'm glad you were able to accommodate her."

"Oh, it was no trouble, Mr. Lovegood. It was a pleasure having her. I love my boys, but it was a lot of fun having a girl for a while. Thank you for letting me borrow her." The two shook hands, smiling. "She also impressed our boss, Miss Balalaika. And, let me tell you, that's not easy to do."

Xeno beamed; he obviously adored hearing his daughter praised. "My Luna's impressed me in a thousand and one ways ever since the day her mother presented her to me." A shadow passed over his face. "I just wish her mother were here to see how she's grown!"

"Oh! Is her mother well?" Petunia looked very concerned. Harry had heard her saying to Balalaika that she felt a girl needed a woman in her life to guide her along the path to adulthood.

Xeno shook his head sadly. "She died when our Luna was nine. Luna saw it. It was an accident. She was a wondrously talented witch, but she did like to experiment. Some of her experiments did incredible things, but one day something went really wrong."

Petunia's eyes filled with tears. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I know what that feels like! My Vernon was killed a few months after Harry came to live with us. That's part of why I'm out here!" She quirked a grin. "Vernon's sister Margaret came and settled on in for a nice long visit, and I decided that I didn't want to live in England any more. Between what I inherited, the insurance settlement, and my own education, I found work in Singapore, and then in Roanapur, and I've never looked back!" She chuckled. "I don't miss English weather, or the prices, or the high taxes, let me tell you!"

"I don't blame you on that," Xeno commented, looking up at the deep blue sky. "And my Luna's been over the moon about her adventures with your boys! She's quite sweet on your Dudley, but she thinks Harry all but put the stars in the skies. I'm glad that they're looking out for her so well."

"That's my boys," Petunia said proudly. The two adults looked over at the younger generation. Luna was clinging to Dudley's hands and looking up at him with an expression so woebegone, someone not familiar would think that they were going to be permanently separated, instead of parting company for a couple of weeks at most before meeting back up at school. "They were taught responsibility early and well, and I must say, they've made me proud, a thousand times."

"Luna also had many very good things to say about this employer of yours, the Russian woman Balalaika," Xeno said, smiling at his daughter. "She says that if Miss Balalaika had been born magical, she'd have the whole Wizard World under her rule, and probably be running it better than the fools who do run it. I've tried to alert people to the corruption in the Ministry many times, but to no avail."

"How do you do that?"

"I publish a magazine called _The Quibbler_. For the most part, I focus on exotic animals, since there's a large market for those stories. But I also do print stories about the Ministry. Lately, I've been looking into the case of Sirius Black. He was thrown into Azkaban, the wizarding prison, for betraying Harry's parents to You-Know-Who."

"Really?" Petunia pricked up her ears. "You do know that Harry's mother was my sister Lily, don't you? What are you looking into? Did something come out at the trial?"

"That's just it. He was apparently imprisoned without any trial at all!" Xeno stepped closer. In a low voice, he said "And that's not the only irregularity I've found!"

Petunia was shocked. "Well, I never! I hope you expose whatever's been going on at the Ministry, and get a bunch of them thrown into Azkaban! From what you say, they've earned it a thousand times over!" She had been associating with criminals, in one of the most corrupt towns in Asia, for over a decade, but she quickly decided she didn't like the so-called "enforcers of the law" acting like criminals themselves.

Finally, they managed to pry Luna away from Dudley, and the two groups parted, with many expressions of goodwill and promises to meet up. As they walked back toward the wharves, Harry noticed that his aunt was preoccupied, and she stayed that way all the way back to Roanapur, despite Revy's'curiosity about where they'd gone. Dutch finally took Revy aside and explained quietly that their passengers' business was their own, and not anything to do with Revy. Harry thought that the Chinese-American woman was bored, and hoped that the other crew could keep her in line. A bored Revy was dangerous.

Once they were back home, they started organizing to pack up for the upcoming school year. It was coming close to the time to head for Dun Mueang Airport in Bangkok to take the plane back to Britain. Harry and Dudley were very proud that they'd managed to buy the tickets _themselves_, with part of the money they'd received for their share of the profits from the Basilisk's venom. Petunia had been surprised, and very pleased at this sign of newfound maturity on their parts. Balalaika had been less voluble, but they could tell that she was happy about it, too. "In Roanapur, children do grow up quickly," she commented.

(Author's note: I hadn't planned on it, but wouldn't a relationship between Petunia, who's a widow in this AU, and Xeno be a hoot? I doubt they'd want it to interfere between Dudley and Luna, so they'd likely keep it quiet, but children can often spot things that adults aren't expecting them to.)


	47. In the Crosshairs

Harry and the Pirates, Chapter 47

In the Crosshairs

by Technomad

When Harry and Dudley got back to Britain, they were met by Hermione and her family. The Grangers were all glad to see them, and vice-versa. Once her parents were well out of earshot, Hermione was agog to hear that Luna Lovegood had not only survived Roanapur, but thrived there.

"Oh, my _god_! You mean to tell me that she was kidnapped…and not only got free, but captured her kidnappers?" Her big black eyes went very round. "And she faced down _Balalaika_?" Both boys nodded, Dudley looking as proud as he might have had Luna been his own sister. Hermione looked very thoughtful. "I may have to re-evaluate her. I don't think I lack courage, but I'd no more contradict Balalaika to her face than I would spit in a dragon's eye!"

"I think Balalaika respects her," Dudley said. "We were all frantic when she disappeared, but Balalaika said that she was an intelligent young woman of considerable courage and resource. Guess she was right, but I've never known Balalaika to be wrong."

Hermione grinned wryly. "I sure hope that whoever you two marry doesn't mind hearing about Balalaika all the time. Not that I blame you. Seeing her in action was an education in itself. I'd love to see her talking to Professor MacGonagall." Harry pictured that, and found that he liked the idea. The stern, upright Scottish witch talking to the elegant, cynical Russian crime queen…he thought they'd strike some interesting sparks off each other. The next day, they were off to Diagon Alley, to meet the Weasleys and Luna.

They noticed that the atmosphere in Diagon Alley was tense, and Dudley asked: "Is something wrong?" Both Harry and Dudley unobtrusively made sure that their wands and pistols were in easy reach, and Hermione followed suit, at least with her wand.

Dudley's eyes lit up. "There are the Weasleys! And the Lovegoods! Hi, Luna!" The next second, he found himself swarmed by a blonde. Ginny followed, not quite so quickly, but she grabbed Harry by the hand and smiled up at him; he found himself smiling back. Then she hugged him, and he was hugging her back. Her hair smelled of jasmine, and for a second, he had a flash of homesickness for Roanapur; the smell of incense and flowers could often be detected there, even through the fug of traffic fumes.

Ginny smiled up at him. "It's so good to see you!" She giggled. "Luna's been telling us all about her trip to Thailand, and it sounds like she had a wonderful time there!" In a lower voice, pitched so that her mother couldn't hear from where she was greeting the Granger parents, she went on: "She was telling my brothers and me all about her adventures, and I can't believe the half of it! Was she _really_ kidnapped?"

"Yeah," Harry confirmed. Ginny's eyes went wide. "We'll tell you all about it, but this isn't the right place." He nodded at the adults. "I don't think your mother _or_ the Grangers need to hear the details." They exchanged conspiratorial grins.

The Weasleys came bustling over. Harry and Dudley found themselves being hugged by Mrs. Weasley, and having their hands shaken by her husband. "Oh, Harry! And Dudley! It's good to see you again! Particularly with that maniac on the loose!"

This explained the tense atmosphere, at least. "What maniac is that, Mr. Weasley? We only just got back to Britain a day or so ago, and we were at the Grangers' house. Is something going on we need to know about?"

"It's Sirius Black! The man who betrayed your parents to You-Know-Who! He escaped from Azkaban, and the guards report that before he left, he was muttering 'he's at Hogwarts, he's at Hogwarts!'" This was interesting, to say the least.

"So you think he might come after me?" Harry unobtrusively moved so that he could draw his wand or pistol quickly, and he noticed that Dudley was doing the same…as were Ginny, Luna and Hermione. Harry smiled inwardly. The training they had received in the Duelling Association had not been wasted, it seemed, any more than his own upbringing and training in Roanapur before he'd ever heard of Hogwarts.

"We're afraid so. Professor Dumbledore has stated that Hogwarts is as secure as any place in Magical Britain, but Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge has gone to the length of stationing Dementors at Hogwarts to protect the students!"

"What's a Dementor?" asked Dudley. Harry was also curious; he hadn't come across _that_ term before. Of course, with an utter fraud succeeding a possession victim as his Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, there were probably all sorts of things he was expected to know but didn't.

"A Dementor, Dudley, is a spirit of unhappiness and despair. They guard the prison of Azkaban. They feed by sucking the happy memories out of their victims, and if one of them should Kiss you…which, mind you, should never happen but by Ministry order…it'll suck your soul right out, leaving you a lifeless husk." Dudley's eyes went wide, and Harry stiffened, holding Ginny a little closer. He could feel a shudder going through her.

"And they're putting these things around a _school_, full of _children_?" Harry raised an eyebrow in a gesture he had unconsciously copied from Balalaika, when the Russian woman was feeling skeptical of what she had been told. Harry was well used to danger, but he knew that not all his schoolmates were, and he did not like the way this sounded at all. "May I ask why?"

"To keep Sirius Black at bay! The Ministry is concerned for your safety!" At this statement, Harry, Hermione and Dudley exchanged glances of pure shock.

"Let me see if I have this straight, Mr. Weasley. These things apparently didn't stop this Sirius Black character from blasting out of Azkaban, but now you're trusting them to protect us from him? _What_ is wrong with this picture?" Hermione's tone was respectful, but from her expression, she was rapidly losing respect, at least for the Ministry. Mr. Weasley had the grace to blush.

"For what it's worth, Hermione, I was against it, but I'm too low-ranking to change the Minister's mind. Professor Dumbledore is also not at all pleased, and has repeatedly demanded that the creatures be removed, to no avail."

Harry took notice of this. He had heard before that Dumbledore was quite influential_. Was his influence waning?_ He quickly decided that he didn't like that idea. Nobody raised in Roanapur was comfortable with the government getting ideas above its station; Harry tended to judge all government by the corrupt, ineffectual police and administration of his hometown.

Once everybody had been greeted, it was time to get new textbooks and robes. Without Lockhart there to create chaos, the scene in Flourish & Botts was much more peaceful. As he stood on line to pay for his purchases, Harry noticed a new book out: _Gilderoy Lockhart, the True Story_, by one Rita Skeeter.

"Hey, look!" All his friends turned to see the cover of the book, and Harry heard some gasps and snickers. The cover showed Lockhart being dragged away by two wizards, his hands cuffed. "I didn't know they were writing a book about him!"

"I'm picking myself up a copy," Hermione said. Suiting deeds to words, she snagged one, putting it with the huge stack of books she had already selected.

"You sure you can afford all of those?" asked Ron. He was sticking strictly to the required textbooks.

"Yes, and so could you. Remember the money for our share of the Basilisk's venom and other byproducts? Unless you've squandered it already, you should have enough for a lot of things." Hermione looked narrowly at Ron, and Ron blushed.

"Mum took charge of that money. She said it would go for new robes and other things I _need,_ and that I'd get the rest when I left Hogwarts, as a start on the money I'll need to set up housekeeping." Ron looked at the ground, clearly rather embarrassed. "At least I won't have to wear hand-me-down robes any more. I also got a new wand; the one I had wasn't very good."

"That's excellent!" Hermione smiled, putting an arm around Ron's shoulders. "Don't worry too much about it. Harry wrote me that he and Dudley have another money-making idea and I bet they'll be happy to let you work with them on it for a percentage." The look she gave Harry and Dudley made it clear that they'd better include Ron in their scheme.

"Of course, Ron!" Harry and Dudley nodded at each other. The redheaded pureblood knew the pureblood world in ways that they didn't, and his poverty was enough of a problem for him to make sure he was motivated. Of course, that assumed that other purebloods would like Coca-Cola…but from the way Luna had reacted to the stuff, the boys from Roanapur weren't too worried.

Once they all had their books, the group went on to Madam Malkin's. There, they ran into another Housemate and his particular friends. "Welly-welly-welly-_well_! If it isn't Draco Malfoy and his Stones-that-Speak! How art thou, Draco?" Draco looked a little confused, as did Hermione and the other purebloods present. Of course, they had never seen or read _A Clockwork Orange_, which had been Harry's favorite movie for years when he was younger. Harry pitied other kids his age for their sheltered lives. When he had discovered George Alec Effinger's "Marid Audran" trilogy, he had thought that Effinger's Budayeen was like a toned-down, Arabic-speaking version of Roanapur. And he thought that Friedlander Bey would be a very interesting addition to his hometown, if he could be introduced without tipping the balance of power off kilter.

"What did you get up to this summer, Draco?" At Hermione's polite question, Draco's old sneer returned, and Harry heaved a huge mental sigh. _Draco spent the summer marinading in his father's poisonous attitude toward anybody less rich or pure-blooded, and a lot of the work we did is to do again,_ he thought. At least the palanquin they had used was still up at Hogwarts.

"My father and mother and I went to France. I take it you were back in that criminals' nest in Thailand?" Draco's voice dripped contempt, and Harry mastered an impulse to slap a better attitude into him.

"We were in Roanapur, and Luna, here, got to visit us. She had a good time, and our employer thinks very highly of her. Her father met my Aunt Petunia, and they hit it right off, which surprised me." At that, Draco's expression changed to one appropriate to someone who'd bitten into an apple to find half a worm in it, and Harry grinned. "Who knows? They may end up becoming very close indeed! You know that Mr. Lovegood's a widower, and my aunt's a widow. Balalaika says that a healthy love life makes a person healthier! And I want my aunt to live a long, healthy life!"

"But…she's a Muggle! And Mr. Lovegood's a pureblood from a very old family!" Draco's voice dripped pure horror.

"It's none of your business. And not having a family tree that looks like a straight line has its good points, Draco," Dudley snapped. "In any case, what with this maniac running around, we'll have enough on our plates without worrying about what our relatives are getting up to! Maybe he'll come for you, Draco!" Dudley leered, as Hermione, Ginny and Luna all giggled, and Draco went red in the face. "He'll come in the night, and wind his long, strong fingers around your throat, and squeeze till your eyes pop out!"

"No! He'll be after Harry! He betrayed Harry's parents so that the Dark Lord could find them and kill them!" Harry narrowed his eyes. He found that he didn't much mind the idea of this Sirius Black coming after him. He could not remember his parents, and Aunt Petunia seldom spoke of her sister and brother-in-law, but he felt their absence in his life. If he could get his hands on one of the people responsible for orphaning him, he knew a lot of tricks to keep that person alive, and very, very sorry, for a very long time.

And he noticed that Draco spoke of Voldemort as "The Dark Lord." For the most part, the only people who used that particular locution were Death Eaters themselves, or in sympathy with their cause. Harry snorted quietly at the memory that told him that Mr. Malfoy had pled coercion and the Imperius Curse to get out of trouble after Voldemort's death or disappearance.

_I'd bet anything I own that Mr. Malfoy was with that bunch because he wanted to be!_ If he could prove it, Harry had some thoughts about just how to requite him. In Roanapur, nobody sane allowed an affront to pass unchallenged, lest he or she be seen as weak, and an easy target.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, Harry sighed relief as Draco and his two bodyguards finally left, and lined up with the rest to be fitted for his new robes. As Ron was measured, his smile lit up the room, and Harry was glad that he'd been able to help out his friend.


	48. Dementors

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 48

Dementors

The Hogwarts Express barrelled north, through a ferocious storm. From his seat by the window, Harry looked out; he rather enjoyed the weather, as long as he could experience it in the comfort and safety of a cozy train car. He had seen many storms, including full-on typhoons, in his time in Roanapur, and bad weather held no terrors for him in and of itself. Of course, he also had the sense to respect it.

While the world outside was dark and lit mainly by flashes of lightning, the atmosphere in the compartment Harry and his friends had taken over was congenial. Hermione had been to America over the holidays, and was eager to fill her friends in on all the things she had seen and done. She and her parents had toured many of the major tourist attractions, and had seen a space launch at Cape Kennedy. At first the purebloods present were inclined to disbelieve her stories about the Muggle space programmes, but Harry and Dudley both assured them that every word was true.

"You mean that men have walked on the _moon_?" Ginny Weasley asked, her eyes round with wonder. Then she gave Harry and Dudley a sharp look. "Very well…I accept your word. Where were the _women_?" Hermione smiled, and Luna put down her copy of the Quibbler to listen more closely from her usual spot sheltered under one of Dudley's arms. "Why was it only _men_?"

Harry and Dudley looked at each other, uneasily aware of how the girls in the compartment were looking at them. "We don't know, Ginny. There might have been some technical reason."

"Or the men wanted to _hog all the glory,_" Ginny grumbled, scowling at the unfairness of the world. Hermione and Luna looked like they agreed with that sentiment.

The boys from Roanapur raised their hands as if in defense. "Hey, don't blame us! That was before we were even born! How can we be blamed for things that happened before we were born?" asked Dudley.

The girls visibly considered this point, and one by one, they nodded. "You do have a point, Dudley. It wouldn't be fair to blame you for something like that." Hermione conceded.

Dudley grinned. "Look, Hermione. You and Luna…you've both been to Roanapur. You've met Balalaika, and seen quite a few of the other women in that city. People like Revy Two-Hands, Sisters Yolanda and Eda, and my own mum. Can you imagine _us_ seeing women as less than our equals?"

"I've been called a lot of things, I suppose, but 'insane' has never been on the list," Harry put in, supporting his cousin. "Underestimating women in a town like Roanapur is a good way to end up on a slab!"

Hermione and Luna both nodded and smiled reminiscently. Ginny looked very envious. "I've been to Egypt, but never to Thailand," she said. "If Roanapur is anything like what you have said, I want to go! It sounds such fun!"

"We don't have the money, Gin-Gin," Ron said, taking part in the conversation for the first time. He'd sat back and watched as the girls took offence at the idea of the American space programme not including women, his expression one of professional interest, as though he were watching a duelling contest.

"Nothing is permanent, Ron…including poverty," Harry said. Ron gave his friend a quizzical look, but Harry refused to elaborate. Once they were safely at school, there'd be time to explain the fine points of the Coca-Cola distributorship they were planning to set up. On the train, there was always the chance of being interrupted.

And, speak of the devil…the compartment door opened, and there was Draco Malfoy, grinning unpleasantly, with his ever-present bodyguards behind him on either side. He probably thought he was impressive, but Harry privately thought that he was ridiculous. He exchanged glances with Dudley, and they both grinned, unobtrusively moving so that their wands were in easy reach. They both had their pistols, but didn't think those would be necessary. They could deal with their dear housemate without resorting to lethal violence. No matter _how_ tempting it was. Balalaika's words: "I do _not_ want to see you two emulating Revy Two-Hands" had made an impression.

"Scared, Scarhead?" sneered Draco. "I would be. But then, you're used to associating with murderers, so having one after you shouldn't bother you, should it?"

Okay. _That_ was it. Something had been bothering Harry for some time, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and having to put up with Malfoy's taunting was just that little bit more than he was willing to tolerate. Standing up, Harry put his face close to Malfoy; close enough that Malfoy flinched back slightly. Harry smiled. Or, at least, he showed his teeth.

"You've been running your mouth about Roanapur ever since I ran into you this year, Malfoy," Harry purred. "My considered opinion is that an entitled, arrogant jackass like you is the sort of person that Roanapur eats up alive! Quite a few people like you, who think they're tough, come to Roanapur and never make it out! There's a noose hanging over the bridge that's the main entrance to the city. It's a warning to the overconfident. To people like _you_!"

Malfoy blinked, clearly trying not to flinch. Harry went on, his voice low and soft and throbbing with menace: "Dudley and I not only survive in that dangerous environment, we _thrive_ there! Luna and Hermione can testify to that! You may despise Hermione…although, now that I think on it, I would bet good Galleons that she could kick your ass in a duel…but Luna's as pureblooded as you are yourself! Calling _her_ a liar could get your family and you into a lot of trouble with the Lovegoods, and we wouldn't want that, now _would_ we?"

Involuntarily, Malfoy shook his head, as his two goons unobtrusively edged away. Maligning a pureblooded witch was very bad trouble in pureblood society. Theoretically, if Draco was seen to have done so, Xenophilius Lovegood could call for him to be punished, and the Malfoys would have to acquiesce. Harry nodded. "I thought so! Before we kick you out of here, I have one final question for you." He paused, for maximum dramatic effect. Except for the noise of the train going over the tracks, all was silent.

"Tell me, Malfoy: _If_ I'm a criminal, and so used to murderers that I'm unafraid of them…what makes you think that _getting into my face_, or my friends' faces, is a good idea?" Malfoy clearly hadn't thought of that point. His eyes went wider, and he swallowed convulsively. Harry smiled widely. "Good! I thought you'd see it my way! We'll have to put up with you back at school, but for now, be gone!" And with that, Harry shut the compartment door in Malfoy's face, then turned as his companions spontaneously began to applaud.

An hour or so later, the train was getting close to Hogwarts, from what Harry could tell. Suddenly, he felt it slowing down. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why are we stopping out here?"

"I don't know, Harry. Shall I go ask the conductor?" Before Dudley could leave, the temperature dropped precipitously, and both boys from Roanapur started shivering convulsively, scrambling for their trunks to try to get their warm winter cloaks. Luna and Ginny held each other tightly, shuddering with the cold, and Dudley threw his spare cloak over them, prompting two grateful smiles.

"You're a gentleman, Dudley," Harry managed to get out, wrapping himself in his own cloak. Ron had followed their example, and was sharing his cloak with Hermione, who was clearly not displeased at all by the closeness. She snuggled up to Ron, and Harry winked at him, making Ron blush as red as his hair.

Frost started spreading over the window, and Harry's eyes went wide. He'd spent enough time in Britain to know that was all but unheard of at the beginning of September, even as far north as they had to be. "Wands out! Something's gone badly wrong!" Every Slytherin in the compartment produced his or her wand.

A rattling hiss of breath chilled the air even farther as a hideous, skeletal hand slowly opened the compartment door, and suddenly Harry was falling, voices in his ears:

_ "Not Harry, not my son! Take me…kill me instead!"_

_ "Stand aside, you silly girl…"_

Harry felt like he was swimming upward through dark water, to the light. He smelled chocolate, and as things came into focus, he found himself lying on the floor, a scruffy-looking, tired-looking wizard bending over him. "Harry? Harry? Here, eat this. It's good for what ails you."

Instinctively, Harry grabbed for the chocolate, biting off a big chunk. It did seem to make him feel better; his head cleared, and he sat up tentatively, rubbing at his scar, which had started hurting. "What the hell happened? Who are you?"

"My name is Remus Lupin. I'm the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor." Harry cocked a quizzical eye at him. _Oh joy, oh rapture unforeseen, yet another one! Maybe this one knows what he's about and isn't evil?_ "And that was a Dementor. They normally guard Azkaban Prison. They were here searching for Sirius Black."

"Did they find him?" That was Hermione. Harry privately thought that if she were to be sentenced to death, she'd walk to her execution asking a million questions about the procedure, the surroundings and everything else. Her hunger for knowledge was sometimes a little frightening.

"No. He's nowhere near here. I must say, your friends were very protective of you. When you went down, they opened up on the Dementor with a barrage of spells and Muggle weapons like very few things I've ever seen. The Dementor beat a hasty retreat." Harry focussed in on the door of the compartment, and gave a low, impresssed whistle. The door, and the far wall of the train car, showed clear signs of mistreatment, bulging out slightly and scorched badly by the impacts of spells. Harry also noticed several clear bullet holes, and he looked at Dudley, who winked and patted the spot under his shoulder where his Makarov rode.

Professor Lupin stood up. "I'm going to have a talk with the conductor about this. They may try to charge you for the damage done, but if they do, contact me. This was a clear case of self-defense." As he turned to go, he turned back long enough to say: "And, let me say that if the rest of your fellow students are as good at combat spells as you seem to be, I look forward to an easy, productive year."

When they got to Hogwarts, they were met at the castle gates by Professor Snape, who hustled them inside. "What dunderheads thought that Dementors were suitable creatures to have around a school?" he growled, giving each of his Slytherins a quick check-over. He narrowed his eyes at Harry. "Mr. Potter. After the feast, please report to Madame Pomfrey. I have reports that you were particularly badly effected by the events on the Express."

"There's no need, sir. I feel fine." Actually, Harry wasn't feeling terribly fine, and would have happily skipped the opening feast in favour of heading straight for his room.

Snape narrowed his black eyes. Suddenly Harry was reminded of Balalaika, dealing with an obstreperous subordinate. "That was not a request, Mr. Potter. I am responsible for your well-being, and would prefer not to have to explain to my old acquaintance that you came to harm that I could prevent."

"Your old acquaintance, sir?"

"Your aunt and I knew each other before I went to Hogwarts. Your mother was a dear friend of mine for years." _Now, this was interesting!_ Had he and Dudley ever happened to mention Professor Snape's name around Aunt Petunia? He made a mental note, and promised himself to ask Aunt Petunia in their next letter home. If she had known their House Head, she might have some interesting things to say about him.

And that also meant…Harry nearly blurted out _But that means you're __young__ still!_ He had always thought of his teachers as older than the hills, decrepit, feeble and untroubled with the fleshly appetites he and his schoolmates were so familiar with. Seeing Professor Snape as a schoolmate and friend of his martyred mother rocked Harry's world slightly.

"Now, on with you. The feast is starting." Snape seemed to be about to crack a smile, but thought better of it. "And I know how hungry you probably are."

Harry became aware of the fact that he was really very hungry, and the smells wafting in from the Great Hall were terribly tempting. "Thank you, sir. I'll see Madame Pomfrey directly I'm done with the feast."

He wasn't terribly late; the Sorting Hat was in the last verses of its song, which Harry privately thought was not likely to displace the great poetry of the English language any time soon. Finally, it ended and the Sorting began.

Harry noticed that quite a few of the Gryffindors seemed to be more hostile than he remembered them being. Fred and George Weasley were particularly prominent in this, hissing every time a student was sorted into Slytherin. Many of the new Snakes paid it no mind, but some of them were clearly disconcerted. One little fellow, Malcolm Baddock, scuttled for the Slytherin table the second the hat was off his head, glancing at the Gryffindor table as though he expected an attack more severe than hissing.

Many of the Slytherins were glaring daggers at the Gryffindors by the time the Feast was over, and Harry noticed some of them fingering wands. Professor Dumbledore made his usual speech, ran over the latest announcements, and then finally dismissed them to go to their dormitories.

Malcolm Baddock had latched onto Luna, who was comforting him. "There there, dear, don't pay those Lions any mind. This is the best house in Hogwarts. We all stick together and look out for each other. They can't hurt you without all of us getting them back." By the time they headed to their dormitories, Malcolm was visibly calmer, and was clearly planning to get to know his new dorm mates.

Dudley drew Luna as close as he could decorously. "Thanks, Luna. That poor little fellow was so scared…I don't think I'd have known what to do for him, but you did." He smiled at her.

Luna looked up at Dudley. "Oh, that was easy. I know what it's like to be picked on, remember?" Over Luna's head, Dudley gave Harry a significant look. They were going to have a heart-to-heart talk with some of the Slytherin girls. Hermione and Ginny would both be happy to help out. None of them liked that sort of thing, and Luna was a comrade-in-arms.

They were also going to get the Gryffindors back good.


	49. Things Go Better With

Harry and the Pirates

by Technomad

Chapter 49

Things Go Better With…

Madame Pomfrey was not pleased at all. Harry was not the only person who had been adversely affected enough to require a checkover, and he had to wait a while for his turn. Finally, the school Healer had him in her office, as she ran her wand over him to run diagnostics. "_Dementors_…around a _school!_" she muttered. "Of all the damn-fool ideas I ever heard in all my days, this takes the cake! Albus needs his head examined, if you ask me! As if Sirius Black would come within a hundred miles of this place!"

"Why do they think that Sirius Black would come here, ma'am?" asked Harry.

Not pausing in her work, Madame Pomfrey said: "Before he broke out of Azkaban, he was heard muttering 'He's at Hogwarts, he's at Hogwarts,' so the fools at the Ministry think he may be coming here to try to get you." She paused, giving Harry a shrewd look. "He was your parents' Secret-Keeper, you know. And he betrayed them to You-Know-Who."

"Oh, did he now?" Harry was very interested in this bit of news, and rather hoped that Sirius Black would indeed put in an appearance. He decided that he had a great deal to talk about with Mister Black. Or, rather, _Harry_ would be doing the talking, while Sirius Black did the "scream in pain until you answer my questions" part.

When he was finally released from the dreaded hospital wing, Harry scampered for his cozy dormitory. He needed to talk with his friends, and soon!

First on the order of business, Harry decided, was tracking down whoever had been cruelest to Luna, and making an example of that person, before extracting the names of others who had been implicated. He knew Luna would be no help; she didn't see things the way others did. So he turned to the next best alternative. When his redheaded quarry was alone with him, in one of the side rooms the Slytherins used for studying, he began his investigation.

"Ginny, can you tell me what Luna might have meant when she said that she knew what it was like to be made fun of?"

Ginny looked wary, then puzzled. "What do you mean, Harry?"

"When we were in Roanapur, we told her that calling Miss Balalaika 'Fry Face' to her face made her very angry…"

Ginny turned even paler than before, remembering when she had met Balalaika, and her horror at Balalaika's scarred face. "Those poor Muggles! She'd be so beautiful without those scars!" She reflexively touched her own face. Harry remembered that Aunt Petunia had mentioned, more than once, that women took threats to their looks with great seriousness. Even when killing themselves, they would generally select a method that did not involve disfigurement.

"I don't know just why they couldn't do more for her. I have heard that she was lucky just to be alive, and that Soviet medicine wasn't the best. But that's neither here nor there." Harry gave Ginny a very stern look. "Luna said she'd never do that, _because she knew all too well what it was like to be made fun of._" Harry leaned in closer. "Tell me, Ginny…tell me the truth! Who's been harassing Luna?"

"Why do you ask me?" asked Ginny.

"You're a girl, you share a dorm room with Luna, and you would see things that we guys don't and can go places we can't go. If someone's been harassing Luna, we need to make it stop…right straight now!"

Ginny looked around, blushing, but there was no escape. "Well…it's mainly a bunch of the Gryffindors. My twin brothers are the ringleaders, but there's a bunch of them who do things to her. They hide her books and gear when they can get at them. If she leaves her bag where they can find it, they'll steal her homework so she has to do it over again. They make up horrible little poems about her, about how she's crazy and is going to end up in St. Mungo's mental wards, or how she's a Slytherin and all Slytherins are criminals. Things like that."

"And you didn't think to mention it to us?" Harry was furious, but he remembered how Balalaika dealt with that sort of thing, and consciously emulated her; outside, he was very calm, but a distinct edge had come into his voice, and (had he but known it) his eyes were like green fire. "You do know that Professor Snape is a big one for Slytherin solidarity. If I were to let him know about this, _he'd_ take care of business, but he'd also come down on _you_ and the other girls for not reporting it earlier." Ginny looked slightly green around the gills at that thought. "Of course, we can take care of things ourselves and not bother the poor old man. God knows, in his twilight years, he deserves a little peace and quiet."

"Oh, we can take care of it ourselves," Ginny assured him, nodding her head rapidly. "No need to bother the poor old Professor! Uh-uh! No-sir-ee!"

Harry smiled rather grimly to himself. He had figured that invoking the intervention of their House Head would get him the results he wanted. "_Good_. Then let's go talk to the others who went to the Chamber, and we'll see what we can do for our sister-in-arms." Had he but known it, his tone was very like Balalaika's soft purr when she was laying down the law. Ginny had never dealt with Balalaika, but she knew that Harry meant business.

When he got them together, the other Chamber of Secrets veterans were all as outraged as Harry himself. Even Draco Malfoy (the boy was a twit and a clown, but he'd gone down there, too; Harry did not believe in depriving anybody of properly-earned credit) was angry. Harry had noticed that no matter how badly Draco behaved to other boys, he was almost always a gentleman to the girls.

Ron stared at his little sister in horror. "Ginny…why didn't you tell us all this earlier? Why didn't you tell me?" His mouth tightened. "I never thought I'd say this, but at this moment, I'm kind of ashamed of being a Weasley! Those jackasses! How _dare_ they mistreat that sweet helpless girl?"

"We're Slytherin House. An attack on any of us is an attack on all of us!" Dudley was probably the angriest of them all. His hands worked and flexed as though they were around the throat of one of Luna's tormentors. Harry was very glad that he was not the target of Dudley's rage. His cousin wasn't quite as smart as he was, but he was hell-on-wheels in a fight, and had no give-up in him at all.

"Yes, we're Slytherin House. We do not go charging in like impulsive Gryffindors." That was Hermione. "We gather intelligence, we choose our targets for maximum impact, we gather our strength…and then we strike with overwhelming force!"

Harry and Dudley both stared at their friend. For a second, it was like Balalaika was in the room; Harry felt a second's racking homesickness for familiar, comfortable Roanapur, and wished that his longtime employer and mentor was there. But she wasn't, and she had often said that she intended to train up Harry and Dudley not to be dependent on her. "I will not always be here, Harry Yakovich," she had said, her voice solemn, "and I would be less than the best commander I can be to make it so that you and your cousin are unable to act without me. A unit that depends so heavily on one person will fall apart and be defeated should that person fall…and the fortune of war happens to us all."

Ginny quirked a grin. "We may be able to get allies from within Gryffindor itself," she said, obviously thinking aloud. "Not all of them are in on this, from what I've seen…and many of them are still in love with the whole mystique of 'The Boy Who Lived.'" Her grin turned into a smile. "We need to find out just who is and is not in on the whole 'tormenting-Luna' thing. For that, we need intelligence. And that will require sources within Gryffindor."

"I'll find a chance to buttonhole Colin Creevey," Harry said, sighing slightly. The younger Gryffindor was hard to dislike, but his habit of ambushing Harry with a camera every chance he could had worn awfully thin the previous year. However, if his hero-worship of Harry was still there, Harry was quite willing to play on it as shamelessly as need be to get the information they needed.

"Good. And let's think about something really spectacular to do to the people who are actually guilty." Hermione looked thoughtful for a second. "If we can get them on the outs with the Gryffs as a whole, that'll make things easier. We don't want this to become an inter-House feud."

"Good point, that," Harry conceded. He had read _Hogwarts, a History_, and there had been periods in the past when Houses had been all but openly at each others' throats. The recent Voldemort umpleasantness had put Slytherin into a position where the other Houses tended to ascribe dark motives to anything any Slytherin did. Unfortunately for the Serpent House, the Dark Lord himself had been a Slytherin Old Boy, and had recruited heavily among his housemates.

With that, the meeting broke up, and they all went to bed.

When Harry found him, Colin Creevey was agog at being noticed by "the great Harry Potter." He was a fountain of information, and when Harry explained to him why he was being approached, he was eager to help out.

"Those people are mean to _Luna_? Why? She's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my life! Of course, I'll help you out!"

Harry hid a smile. "Good. I want you to be quiet about this, but gather information about who's been doing what. When you have it, get back in touch with me, and I'll tell you all about my life. To sweeten the deal, I'll have Dudley sit in on the conversation, and he can fill in any details I miss." The enthusiastic little Gryffindor all but bounced off the walls, he was so excited. Harry watched, outwardly calm, inwardly exulting. _Gryffindor enthusiasm was no match for Slytherin cunning_!

The kids' first real Hogsmeade weekend was approaching quickly. Dudley and Harry put together a very special order, and sent it out by owl, with a money order drawing on the Gringott's account they had set up for their share of the Basilisk money.

A few days later, they got a response. A team of owls flew into the Great Hall and dropped Harry and Dudley off a package, with a letter attached. When they had a chance, they opened the package, and smiled to see a twelve-pack of Coke. "You know, this is one thing I've really missed, going here," Dudley remarked, reaching for a bottle.

Harry wanted to emulate his cousin, but restrained himself. "Let's just split this one bottle, and use the rest for what we planned. The more we have for our free samples, the farther it'll go."

"Good point, Harry," said Dudley. Ceremoniously, they got glasses, and poured half of the Coke into one and half into the other. Then they touched the glasses together. "Here's to success to our new enterprise!" toasted Dudley.

"_Vostrovya_!" Harry downed the Coke, smiling at its familiar bite.

Luna's eyes lit up when she saw the bottles. "Oh, how lovely! Are you going to be selling Coke here?"

Hermione's reaction was more muted. "My parents are going to kill me when they hear about this! They're both dentists!"

Harry leaned over to Dudley, saying quietly, in Russian: "I hadn't heard that before. Do you think she'll kick over our applecart?"

Dudley replied in the same language: "I don't know. I wish we had known about that before letting her know what we're up to here."

Hermione gave them both a bland smile, and said: "Don't worry, boys. I may not want to participate directly, but I won't prevent you trying to make some money." Harry and Dudley both goggled at her in sheer shock. Hermione had not only understood the byplay, but she was speaking Russian…and speaking it well! Hermione smiled triumphantly at their amazement, and went on, in Russian: "While you were in Thailand, I got my parents to send me to an intensive language course. Twelve hours a day of lessons, language tapes when I was at home, and lots of practice. My vocabulary isn't as extensive as yours is yet, but my teachers say my accent is crisp and clear."

"Well, you could knock me over with a feather! I guess we can't count on Russian to give us a little privacy any more, can we, Harry?" Dudley reached out and gave Hermione a hug. "That said, you must have done a wonderful job! I bet Balalaika would be really pleased to hear you!"

"She sure would!" Balalaika was multilingual, but she was also always a proud Russian woman, and seeing foreigners take an interest in her native language and culture pleased her greatly. Some of the money that Hotel Moscow and Bougainvillea Traders made was put into Russian culture exhibits in Thailand, and funded scholarships in Moscow for aspiring young Thais.

"I got tired of hearing you two nattering away in Russian, so I just decided that I'd do something about it. I also found out that Durmstrang, the Eastern European magic school, uses Russian as its language of instruction, and I may want to go there sometime." Hermione looked rather smug. "There are also some great magical classics in Russian and some of them have never been translated. Even if translations exist, I don't always trust them. There's an Italian saying 'the translator is a traitor,' and I've found out that even between closely related languages, translation can be very tricky."

"That it can," Harry confirmed. He turned to Dudley. "So, I guess from now on out, if we want privacy, we'll have to use Thai."

Hermione gave them both a glare, and they grinned at her.

END Chapter 49


	50. The Pause that Refreshes

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 50

The Pause that Refreshes

by Technomad

When Harry and Dudley offered around small glasses of Coke, the reaction among their House mates was all they could have wanted. Pureblood scion after pureblood scion tasted, and their expressions told the two that they had a hit on their hands.

"How long has this stuff been around?" asked Pansy Parkinson.

"And why didn't anybody tell _us_?" grunted Vincent Crabbe.

When the glasses were emptied, there was a clamor for more. "Steady on, everybody," Harry said. "We can get you more. But it won't be free."

"How much do you want? We'll pay! I have plenty of pocket money!" That was Millicent Bulstrode. A chorus of agreement backed her up, and Harry and Dudley both smiled.

"We'll sell it to you. At two litres for a Galleon." This produced a flurry of reaction, as people dove for their money pouches, or pulled out Gringott's cheque books. "Easy, now! We can only get so much in at a time! After our first Hogsmeade trip, we'll be able to set up something more regular. But that's not for a few weeks." The groans of disappointment were music to the boys' ears.

Over the next few days, they introduced their other pureblood friends to the Pause that Refreshes. All of them loved it, clamoring for more. The Muggle-raised were also eager to buy; for them it was a taste of home, something familiar in their strange environment. Harry and Dudley ended up setting up a system where they wrote down orders, with payment to occur when they made delivery. When they began totting up the orders, they could hardly believe their eyes.

"So easy…" Dudley breathed, his eyes alight with greed. "So easy to make _lots _of money!"

"As long as we're the only conduit for this stuff, that is," Harry reminded his cousin. "Keep in mind, the Muggle-raised are familiar with the outside world, and could compete to undersell us."

"True, that," Dudley nodded. "However, if we're the only authorized purveyors, that should keep competition at bay. At least here in the castle. Don't know about Hogsmeade, yet."

"We need to nail that down, pronto," Harry said. "Let's go talk to Snape. He should know about this sort of thing."

Professor Snape was not entirely surprised when Harry and Dudley asked for some of his time. "Come in, gentlemen. I take it this is about your new enterprise?" Snape had sources all through the castle, and was seldom caught entirely off-guard.

"Yes, sir. Please, sir, how would we go about being the only people permitted to sell Coca-Cola here?" Snape's eyes went wide. This was rather unexpected.

"To be honest, gentlemen, I am not quite sure about how one would do that, myself. I imagine that Professor Dumbledore would know. Would you like me to set up an appointment for you with him?"

"Yes, sir. That would be most kind. Would the school governors also be involved?"

"Unlikely at best. Their main function is to approve or disapprove additions to the faculty or the curriculum. They tend to consider day-to-day operation of the school as beneath their notice, leaving much to the Headmaster's or Headmistress' discretion."

"Very well, sir. When we get an audience with the Headmaster, we'll put the question to him."

"I shall see when Professor Dumbledore can see you, young gentlemen." Snape paused for a moment. "You know, ever since your age cohort Sorted into Slytherin, he has mellowed toward this House. Previously, although his behavior was always correct, it was always…cold."

"Is that because a lot of Death Eaters were Slytherins, sir?" asked Dudley. Snape nodded sadly.

"To our eternal shame, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named recruited heavily from his old House, although all four houses contributed to his ranks. This has not been forgotten, nor forgiven, in many quarters. You both saw how the Gryffindors reacted to those who Sorted Slytherin at the Sorting."

"Yes, we did, sir!" Harry noticed that Dudley looked very grim, and he noted a gleam in Snape's black eyes. He figured that if they kept their retaliations against Gryffindor within reason, Snape wouldn't mind them at all. He had an idea that Snape had some old, personal grudges against the House of the Lion.

"You may leave, gentlemen. I shall inform you when Professor Dumbledore is able to see you." With that, the boys knew they were dismissed, and headed for the office door.

Before they left, Harry turned and asked: "Sir…you said you knew my mother, and Aunt Petunia. Shall I write and tell Aunt Petunia that you're our House Head?"

Snape's eyes went very wide, but Harry did not think he was displeased. "I am surprised you have not done so already, Mr. Potter."

"It's just never come up. Maybe, someday, you could tell me about my parents, sir? I have no memory of them."

Their House Head seemed, for a second, to be staring through them, into a past neither boy could see. "I would be willing to do so, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Dursley. I knew Mrs. Dursley back when she was plain 'Petunia Evans,' although we were never close." Then the moment was gone. "Now, run along. I believe you both have your first Defence class scheduled." They both obeyed.

When they got to their Defence classroom, they were almost the last ones in. Shortly after they'd found seats, Professor Lupin appeared. He was still wearing his rather worn-looking robes, and Harry noticed Draco snickering about it. He made a mental note that Draco was getting more than slightly above himself again, and might need another reminder of his relatively humble station in life.

Once they had taken roll, and Professor Lupin had had the customary moment of startlement to hear Harry's name, he announced: "Put your books away, ladies and gentlemen. This is to be a practical lesson, today." He led the curious Slytherins down the corridor, and into a room where the main article of furniture was a cabinet.

"In this cabinet," said Professor Lupin, "is a boggart."

That news did not please most of Harry's classmates. One and all, they shivered and turned pale. Harry was worried, himself. He had read some things about them, and didn't like what he had read one bit. Lupin went on, explaining how boggarts turned into a representation of whatever the person facing them most feared, and how they could be badly confused when facing groups.

When Lupin had finished his explanation of how to deal with a Boggart, he had the Slytherins go out of the room and come back in, one at a time, to practice under his eye. Harry wondered what his friends' Boggarts would be. Hermione, he rather thought, would see Dumbledore telling her that she was the stupidest witch in creation and that she would be expelled. But what would Malfoy see? Or Crabbe and Goyle? Or Dudley?

They went in in alphabetical order, according to their last names. When Dudley came out, he was white and shaking. "What did you see?" whispered Harry. "Was it Revy Two-Hands with a mad-on?"

"No," Dudley whispered back. "It was Balalaika, telling me that I had failed her and I was fired forever from Hotel Moscow!"

"How did you deal with that?"

"I imagined her wearing Sister Yolanda's nun's habit, with a big Russian beard. It was so funny!" Dudley snickered to himself for a second, then got serious. "I wonder how she'd react to being told that being thrown out by her was my greatest fear?"

"We'd best keep this to ourselves, cousin. Just don't mention it back home. Balalaika _might _be flattered, but I doubt she'd be flattered by what you did to 'her.'" Dudley nodded, solemnly. Just then, Hermione came out, obviously badly rattled by what she'd seen.

As she went by, she said, in a low voice, "It was Professor McGonagall telling me I'd failed every single course!" Dudley and Harry both nodded. They had thought that was likely to be what would scare Hermione.

Malfoy came by, white-faced. Feeling a rare spasm of charity toward his usual rival, Harry did not ask him what he had seen, or whether he had managed to counter it.

Finally, it was Harry's turn. Professor Lupin looked at him doubtfully. "You know, Mr. Potter, I had thought to excuse you from this exercise."

"Why is that, sir?"

"Because I'm very much afraid that the boggart will turn into He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or at least a good facsimile. And having Him loose in the school might really frighten a lot of your schoolmates. Many of them also lost relatives or friends under His reign of terror."

"You mean Lord Thingamebob? I don't remember him at all. And I'm used to scary things. Didn't you hear about where I grew up?" Harry smiled grimly. "Believe me, anybody who survives Roanapur is used to scary things and people."

"Yes. Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore were most informative, and I have also taken the liberty of reading up a little on your background. This 'Balalaika' person, in particular, sounds very interesting. Perhaps, one day, we can meet?"

"Perhaps, sir. But let loose your Boggart, and let's see what it does!" Harry took a firm grip on his wand, remembering the incantation, Riddikulus, and to turn whatever came out into something laughable. Lupin opened the cabinet, and the Boggart came out, assuming the form of a Dementor.

Harry stared, feeling the terrible chill coming over him. Voices echoed in his head:

_"Not Harry, no, please, not Harry! Take me…kill me instead!"_

_ "Stand aside, you silly girl…"_

When consciousness returned, Harry was lying on the floor, with Professor Lupin holding him up like a father holding his sick son. "Here, Mr. Potter, eat this," he said, holding out a chunk of Honeydukes' chocolate. "At least, it wasn't He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, your reaction to Dementors is rather extreme."

"Sir…" Harry took a deep breath, and went on, "I think what I heard was just before You-Know-Who tried to kill me! I've never been able to remember that before! I think I heard my Mum's voice." For a second, he looked down. "I don't remember her at all…"

Professor Lupin looked away, and wiped at his face. "I shall have to tell you about her. However, I believe that you'll need to learn about a way to fight off Dementors, if this is what they do to you. As long as Sirius Black is loose, the Dementors will be around the school, and they are not known for their restraint."

"There's a spell to keep them off?"

"It's called the Patronus Charm. It's quite advanced magic, but from what I read in your records, you may be able to master it. We shall have to set up a time for private lessons."

Harry nodded. "I'll figure something out, sir. May I be excused?" At Lupin's nod, he exited the room. He needed to talk to Dudley.

When he found Dudley, he drew his cousin aside and explained what had happened. Dudley's blue eyes went wide with fear for Harry. "Will you teach me that spell, if you can learn it yourself?" He looked fierce. "If you go down, I want to be able to defend you!"

"I'll do better than that, Dudley. I'll teach all our friends. These Dementors are dangerous, and I don't want any of our group to fall victim to them! Not even Draco Malfoy or Pansy Parkinson!" Harry meant every word he said. He thought that Draco was a twit and Pansy was a moron, but he didn't want to see either of them dead. For all his twittishness and his pureblood superiority complex, Draco had come through in the Chamber of Secrets. For better or worse, they were brothers-in-arms. Balalaika's training had bit deep; deeper than he realized.

"In any case, cousin, I had an idea," Dudley said. He pulled out some papers. "I was thinking about how we can make sure nobody undercuts our prices for Coke, and it occurred to me that the goblins handle most transactions between the wizard and Muggle worlds." His smile was evil. "If we cut the goblins in for a share of the profits, we can get them to make sure that we're the only ones who can cut a deal with the Coca-Cola company! Of course, we might have to up our prices a bit to still make a comfortably hefty profit, but why do people like Draco Malfoy have money, anyway, but for us to figure out ways to take it from them?"

"Good question. A fool and his money are soon parted." Growing up among a bunch of Social Darwinists had not made either boy exactly compassionate. They began working out the details of the deal they would offer the goblins. They knew that goblins could always be tempted by money, and that they stayed bought.

END Chapter 50


	51. Errands in Hogsmeade

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 51

Errands in Hogsmeade

When their promised day in Hogsmeade arrived, the Slytherin third-years were eager to go. All of them had their permission slips in order. Harry and Dudley were no exceptions; Petunia had signed their slips the second that she had learned their purpose, and they'd been owled to Hogwarts before Harry and Dudley had left Thailand.

Along with the other third-years, they gathered at the gates, ready for their escort. Finally Professor Flitwick, the head of Ravenclaw House, appeared, and led the happy, laughing students down to Hogsmeade. The older students frolicked alongside, all of them eager for a break. While Hogwarts Castle was an endless marvel, even it could pall, and a change of scenery would be very welcome. Around them, it was a glorious Scottish autumn day, with the sun shining down out of a brilliant blue sky. Harry felt glad to be alive.

Then the first Dementors came out to intercept them, and Harry's _joie-de-vivre_ vanished. He wasn't the only one. The students who'd been frisking along happily suddenly clumped together, like chickens when the shadow of a hawk appeared over their run. It was like a cloud had slid over the sun; even the temperature seemed to fall.

Harry was no stranger to fear. He had been in tight situations many times. But the Dementors' effect was like nothing he had ever experienced. It was all he could do not to just squeeze his eyes shut and whimper. Quite a few of his companions were doing just that, and some of them were actually crying.

Professor Flitwick paled, but pulled out his wand, yelling "_Expecto Patronum_!" At his high-pitched cry, a great silvery eagle erupted from the tip of his wand, and the Dementors drew back. Harry watched them carefully, and he would have sworn, had they been human, that they looked disappointed. As they retreated, their baleful influence faded, and the students gradually recovered their equilibrium. The temperature seemed to rise, and soon they were back on their way to the village, none the worse for their close encounter.

Harry and Dudley exchanged significant glances. Harry knew that they were going to have to have a long talk about these Dementor things, soonest. In the meantime, though, Hogsmeade beckoned, and they were both curious to see it. Their experience of Britain was London and Hogwarts, and they had no idea of what to expect in a small Scottish town, even one inhabited by magical folk.

The main business area, or "High Street," looked rather like things they had seen in movies set in Britain. It was surrounded by rather quaint-looking buildings with shops on the ground floor, many of them apparently branches of businesses they'd seen earlier in Diagon Alley. They passed several interesting-looking places, including a candy store that was thronged with their classmates, before finding what they were looking for.

Gringott's Bank occupied a small, well-fortified building of its own. Harry couldn't place the style, but it reminded him of military blockhouses he'd seen. He approved; banks, to his mind, were prime targets for criminals, and needed to be as secure as possible. He had seen "modern" style banks, in Thailand and London, and privately thought that the idea of having banks with huge, vulnerable panes of glass instead of solid stone walls was utterly insane.

Pushing open the solid wooden doors, Harry and Dudley found themselves in a large room not unlike the Great Hall of Hogwarts. Along the walls were caged-in desks, with goblins behind them talking to customers. Harry recognized some of them as non-human; there was a hag there apparently making a deposit in her account, and two centaurs were looking over a statement under the eye of a rather impatient-looking goblin.

Giving each other "buck up!" nudges for courage, Harry and Dudley stepped up to a teller who had no customers. The goblin looked up with a scowl. "What do you two young wizards want?" he snapped.

"My name is Harry Potter and this is my cousin, Dudley Dursley. May you always buy cheap and sell dear," Harry responded. Before they had come, he had read up on goblin etiquette, after asking Snape which books were reliable on the subject.

The goblin's eyes went wide. Not many wizards took the time to learn proper goblin manners. "My name is Thorlakk. May your haemorrhoids shrink without surgery, Mr. Potter and Mr. Dursley. How may I be of assistance to you?"

"We have a business proposal, and would like to speak to a goblin of rank. Would that be possible to arrange now, or would we have to come back at another time?" Thorlakk's eyes went wider. Getting right down to business, instead of wasting time on chitchat, was the height of courtesy among goblins. And he had clearly recognized Harry Potter, or at least, his name. Harry made a mental note to find out just how much was in that vault under the London branch of the bank.

Thorlakk pushed a button, and a bell rang in the deeper parts of the bank. "I shall summon Director Eisenherz to speak to you, young wizards. Gringott's is always interested to hear business proposals." Thorlakk's eyes shone with greed, a sight that Harry knew very well. For a second, he knew real homesickness for Roanapur, where greed was God. He wondered what the goblins would think of his hometown, or if they already knew of it. Did Roanapur have a magical area, like Diagon and Knockturn Alleys? He decided it was worth looking into. He was sure that Bangkok and Singapore had such places.

An older goblin came out, dressed in what Harry recognized from his reading as garb appropriate to a very high-ranking goblin. "I am Eisenherz." Ritual greetings were exchanged, and Harry and Dudley soon found themselves in a luxuriously-appointed office. "Thorlakk says that you have a business proposal. What is it, young wizards?" He snorted. "If you're like most wizards, it's some mad scheme to extract sunbeams out of cucumbers, or something even less likely to produce profit!"

"Nothing like that, great Eisenherz." Harry leaned forward intently. "We have found out that the wizards do not know what Coca-Cola is, and we want to be the exclusive purveyors of the stuff to them!"

Eisenherz' eyes went very wide. "Ah! I see! You wish to have an exclusive position selling Coca-Cola, so that you may charge what you please! A very intelligent move! We can arrange this, for a percentage of your profits!"

Harry and Dudley settled in for a bargaining session. This was old, familiar territory to both boys. Buying and selling in Roanapur usually involved a deal of haggling, and unlike their British-raised schoolmates, both boys were completely comfortable and familiar with the process. When they sneered at the goblins' first offer and made a counter-offer far below what the goblins had proposed, the dance began.

An hour later, the haggling was over, and they had come to an agreement. As he produced copies of a contract for the boys to sign, Eisenherz said: "Young wizards, it is rare for us to find such financial acumen among your kind. You have so much common sense and money sense, you could almost be goblins yourselves!"

Harry blushed, and he saw that Dudley was doing the same. From a goblin, that was extraordinarily high praise. Most goblins considered wizards and witches to be foolish flibbertigibbets and saw dealing with them as a burden to be borne. "Thank you, sir. We anticipate much profit from this day." Harry signed the contract, and Dudley did likewise, followed by Eisenherz on behalf of the goblins. Once that was done, Eisenherz got up to leave. Harry cleared his throat. "A moment, please, good Eisenherz." Startled, Eisenherz paused. Harry went on: "I am told that I have an account with this bank, but have never been given a statement. May I have a written statement of my holdings, as well as an explanation of who, if anybody, other than me has access to this information?"

Eisenherz smiled broadly. "A very wise thing to ask for! You will go far indeed, young Harry Potter." At his gesture, Thorlakk, who had been sitting in the back keeping quiet during the important business discussion, ran off into the depths of the bank as though the hounds of hell were on his trail. That confirmed Harry's notion that Eisenherz was a very high-ranking goblin indeed. The books Snape had pointed him to said that the goblins were all about hierarchy; in their language, there was no such concept as "equality" between goblin and goblin, and grammar for speaking between equals did not exist. Instead, there was an infinite variation of modes, for speaking to those of greater or lesser status.

When Thorlakk came cringing back with the papers Harry had wanted, he and Dudley walked out. That was another part of goblin etiquette; they did not approve of wasting time on meaningless pleasantries. There was a theory that the phrase "time is money" had originated among the goblin nation.

Harry glanced over the statement of his account, and his eyes went wide. "Dudley! Look at this!" Dudley took the paper and looked it over, and whistled, long and low and softly. "I hadn't known how wealthy I really was!" His eyes narrowed as he took the paper back. "Let's see who has or had access to this account." As he read, Harry's blood went icy cold. "It says that Dumbledore has my vault key. There don't seem to have been any withdrawals, but I want more information."

"Once we're back at the castle, let's owl the London branch and find out if they have more in-depth records of this account." The Hogsmeade branch of Gringott's mainly existed for routine withdrawals and deposits, with the main records safely kept in London. Harry put the papers away. "In the meantime…Hogsmeade awaits!" He made a grand gesture, like Satan offering Christ the world _in Paradise Lost._

The main pub in town, the Three Broomsticks, was not far away, and as Harry and Dudley walked in, they were greeted by a bunch of their Housemates, including Draco, Ron and Hermione. "Hey! Come on over! We've got seats for you!" Pretty soon, they were settled in, and Madame Rosmerta, the proprietor, came over to take their orders.

With refreshments on the way, Harry and Dudley sat back to find out what the others had been doing. They usually let others take the lead in conversation, having found that it was a good way to get information without seeming to pry. Hermione was burbling about the bookstore in town, and going over a list of things she wanted to order from them. Ron, on the other hand, was raving about the candy store.

Draco smiled a superior smile and began talking about the Shrieking Shack. "It's the most haunted place in Britain, they say," he said. "The Hogwarts ghosts say that it's got some real rough types, and won't go near it!"

Ron turned to Harry. "Hey, mate, where did you two disappear to, anyway? We were wondering where you'd gone."

"Oh, we had some stuff to do at Gringott's. Boring old business. Nothing that would interest you." To Harry's relief, that satisfied Ron, although he saw a gleam in Hermione's eye that told him that she, for one, wanted to know more. However, respect for privacy was strong in Slytherin, and she would not pry publicly. Harry winked at her, to let her know that he'd tell her more later, and she settled back to drink her butterbeer.

Once they had done with their drinks, Harry and Dudley stood up. "Look, we don't mean to abandon you, but there's parts of this town we haven't explored yet. Will you excuse us?"

"Go on, you two. Don't think it hasn't been a little slice of paradise, because it hasn't," Draco drawled, giving Hermione a dirty look that she returned. Harry could tell that tension was ramping up; Draco had been back to his old ways, more and more, and Hermione was not particularly inclined to just suffer through it in silence. He decided to head off a possible brawl.

"Ron? Hermione? Will you come with us? Maybe you can point things out that we might miss." Nothing loath, Ron and Hermione got up, leaving Draco with his two ever-present bodyguards and some of the other "pureblood" faction of their year of Slytherin. "Nice to see you all, but we've only got so much time here."

Once they were out on the streets, Harry said in a low voice: "What we were up to at Gringott's is of interest to you two, and we'll tell you, but only when we're safely back at the castle." With that to appease them, Ron and Hermione calmed down, and they went along their way, making note of the business establishments for later use.

Down a side street, they paused in front of a rather shabby establishment. The faded sign over the door proclaimed it to be the "Hog's Head," and featured a painting of a severed hog's head. "This sure reminds me of home, doesn't it you, Harry?" asked Dudley. Harry nodded. For all that the details were wildly different, it was reminiscent of Roanapur, and he felt homesick for a second.

"Let's see what's inside!" Hermione led them in, and they found themselves in a run-down pub, a great contrast to the well-kept-up, inviting Three Broomsticks. Several disreputable-looking wizards and witches were sitting around at tables or at the bar, behind which a scrawny, white-bearded wizard presided. As the Slytherins entered, the clientele all stopped talking to give the newcomers the hairy eyeball.

While Hermione and Ron were a bit abashed, stopping still in the doorway, Harry and Ron were utterly unperturbed. They walked on in, laying claim to a table with the sort of aplomb that suggested that they were regulars. "Well, don't be shy, you two. Come on in. Let's have a drink!" Hermione and Ron came on in, edgily, and sat down as though they expected to be attacked.

"Kind of like the Yellowflag, isn't it, Hermione?" Reminded of her visit to Roanapur, Hermione perked up slightly. The white-beard behind the bar came over. "Four butterbeers, please," said Harry. The barkeep nodded and disappeared back behind the bar, coming back with four dusty bottles of butterbeer, which he set on the table when Harry showed him the money.

As they drank up, the atmosphere grew less tense. Muted conversations resumed, and people turned back to what they had been doing, although they still kept an eye on the four Hogwarts students. Since there was nobody wanting service, the barkeep came over and drew up a chair without being invited. "Mind if I join you?" he asked.

"Not at all, not at all," Dudley said. He waved a hand around the table. "Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter, and, last and least, me, Dudley Dursley." At the name "Harry Potter," the room went silent again for a second, before conversation started up. To Harry's ear, it sounded slightly forced. He bent a gimlet eye on the barkeep.

Under their four stares, the white-bearded wizard said: "Aberforth Dumbledore. This is my pub." Harry's eyebrows went up slightly, and he could see the others giving their new acquaintance a closer look. The resemblance to the Headmaster was there, but this Dumbledore was nothing like the genial, dotty-seeming man who ran their school. He was more feral, and did not seem at all dotty. Harry decided that he was someone who might prove useful.

Aberforth Dumbledore observed: "It ain't often that kids from my brother's school come to the Hog's Head. Why're you here? The Broomsticks kick you out?"

"Nope," said Dudley. "We're just out exploring the town. And this place is a bit of home for me and Harry."

"How so?" Aberforth looked very suspicious. "By your accent, you aren't from the slums. That's a middle-class tongue in your head, or I've never heard one." Harry nodded to himself. Aberforth didn't miss much. Again, he was reminded of their acquaintances in Roanapur.

"Harry and I," with a wave at Harry, "were brought up outside the UK. We were mostly raised in Roanapur, Thailand. Ever heard of Roanapur?"

At the mention of their hometown's name the room went silent again. Aberforth was looking at Harry and Dudley as though they had just pulled guns. "_Roanapur_? Isn't that the pirate town?" Dudley and Harry both grinned and nodded. "Blimey! No wonder this place doesn't scare you! Most of the students, they take one peep in here and they're out of here faster'n lightning!"

At that, the others in the room relaxed completely. Apparently Roanapur was enough to make them believe that the newcomers could be trusted. Harry looked around. He noticed stairs leading up to the first story. "What's up above us? Do you live there?"

Aberforth nodded. "Aye, I have a flat up there. There's other rooms available as well, by the hour," he winked, and Harry smiled, "or for longer. For a consideration."

This was interesting. Harry leaned over to Dudley, and said in Russian: "We might just find such a thing useful, eh, cousin?" Hermione nodded; she had understood as well. She made a Slytherin hand-signal to Ron, indicating that all would be made clear later. Ron nodded and sipped at his butterbeer.

Harry could see a lot of uses for a place off-campus where he could do things. He had a lot of ideas for ways to make more money while at school, and having a place that was relatively immune to searches from the school authorities would help a lot. He did not think Aberforth Dumbledore would betray him; from what he could tell on brief acquaintance, the pub owner and his famous brother were not on the best possible terms.

As they finished their drinks, the clock on one wall began to chime. "Sorry, Mr. Dumbledore, but we've got to go. We'll be back when we can." Leaving their glasses on the table along with a nice, but not extravagant tip, the four got up to go back to school. Before he left, Harry got Aberforth to give him a piece of parchment with the rates for rentals of rooms on it, so he could look it over at leisure.

When they got back to the castle, they found Slytherin in a state of ferment. Ginny Weasley came running up. "Oh! I'm so glad you're back! Something dreadful happened while you were gone!"

"What was it?" All four of them went on instant high alert.

"Luna was pranked by some of the Gryffindors! She's in the hospital wing right now!"

Harry stiffened. He looked at Dudley, whose eyes had gone cold and dead.

In an icy, calm voice, Dudley said: "Of course you know, this means war."

END Chapter 51


	52. Lion Hunt

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 52

Lion Hunting

by Technomad

Everybody in Slytherin was indignant about what had happened. The older Slytherins, the boys in particular, had all made Luna a particular pet of theirs, and her gentle, accepting personality had made her a favorite of everybody's. Draco Malfoy said: "Anything you need help with, Potter, Dursley, you let me know! My lads and I will be _happy _to help!" Crabbe and Goyle both nodded. Harry believed that they were telling the truth; Luna had helped them more than once with homework. She was ahead of many of them at scholastic things, thanks to a rather lonely girlhood spent delving into her Daddy's extensive library.

Harry and Dudley appropriated a nearby dungeon room to serve as temporary headquarters, moving in some spare furniture and making it comfortable. Harry planned to rent a room from Aberforth Dumbledore, for business purposes, once their Coca-Cola distributorship was well off the ground, but this would do for the moment. Once they had things arranged, with seating and lighting and other comforts, they began operations.

"Here's the list of Gryffindors who weren't out at Hogsmeade," said Hermione. She slid a parchment onto the desk in front of Harry, who leaned closer to examine it.

"I notice that Fred and George aren't on the list," commented Ginny. "They never miss a Hogsmeade outing, not if they can possibly help it. That takes them off the list of suspects." She and Ron shared a relieved look.

"And, give them their due, they wouldn't have done anything to hurt Luna. She's a neighbor of ours, and they've known her all her life. Her mum was always good to them when she was alive." Ron pointed out. "But they likely have a fair old idea of just who might have done such a thing. They keep a close eye on events in Gryffindor, and I don't think that whoever pranked Luna would have escaped their notice."

"Good. We'll want to talk to those two. In the meantime, is Luna allowed visitors?" Harry had noticed that Dudley was getting very antsy, and he decided that a visit was in order. If for no other reason, to reassure Luna that she hadn't been forgotten up in the hospital wing.

"Madame Pomfrey says she's out of real danger. She cracked her head against the floor really badly, and it was a bit touch-and-go-ish there for a while. However, she should recover nicely, with only a little scar under her hair. Visiting hours start soon." Dudley looked at his watch. "In about fifteen minutes, as a matter of fact."

"Good. Let's adjourn to see our fallen comrade. _Vperyed, tovarishchi_!*" With that quote from Balalaika, Harry gathered his friends up and they trooped up through the castle to the hospital wing.

Luna was lying in an airy room, well-lit with sunlight pouring in through high Gothic windows. When her friends came in to see her, she was lying there with her eyes closed and a white bandage on her head. As they approached, she opened her big silvery-grey eyes, smiling to see who had come.

"Oh, hullo! It's so good to see you! How was Hogsmeade?" Dudley's eyes welled with tears, and he sat down beside her, taking her hand in both of his.

"Hogsmeade was very nice, Luna-moth. But we're all very worried about you. I'm feeling guilty that I wasn't around to keep an eye on you."

"Oh, Dudley, you're so sweet to worry about me! But I survived Roanapur, didn't I? I don't fear danger, and other people aren't always going to be able to protect me." Dudley blushed.

"What happened? Do you remember what happened?" asked Harry. Like most of their Housemates, he approved completely of the relationship between Dudley and Luna, but this was not the time to be canoodling, in his opinion.

"I was at the top of some stairs when I was hit with a _Tarantallegra_. I started to dance, and it turned out that someone had cast a spell to slick the floor, the way you did with the troll, Hermione." Hermione blushed. "I fell, and awoke here. Professor Snape saw me fall, and rushed me to the hospital wing. He helped treat me, you know. He's a Healer in his own right."

"So it wasn't an accident," Hermione said, her voice flat. The expression on her face reminded Harry uncomfortably of Balalaika, as he had seen his boss just before she unleashed Hell on some poor fool. "Do you have any ideas about who might have done it?"

"Not really. I heard giggling just before I fell, and could hear people running away as I fell." Seeing that Luna was not going to be helpful, Harry got up. Hermione put away the notebook she had produced earlier, and gave Harry a nod. Ron and Ginny both looked very grim. Dudley squeezed Luna's hands, looking utterly woebegone.

Madame Pomfrey came in. "I'm sorry, children, but visiting hours are over. Miss Lovegood needs her rest. She'll be out of here in a few days, but while she's here, she has to rest so that her magical core can heal up." The Slytherins all got up to go, and Dudley leaned over Luna to give her a kiss. She kissed him back, and when he straightened, he gave the others a look that dared them to say anything. Harry didn't think it was funny, and apparently neither did the others.

"Let's start getting this sorted out, people," said Harry. They left.

Fred and George Weasley were not stupid. When they heard that Luna Lovegood had been pranked, and that the prank had put her in the hospital wing, they knew perfectly well that they were at the top of the suspects list. They weren't surprised when a large group of Slytherins appeared, "inviting" them down to the dungeons "for a little chat."

Once they were ushered in, the twins looked around with interest. Their rivals had been busy; the room, once bare, now had the appearance of a business office. Seated behind a desk, they saw Harry Potter, with Dudley Dursley and Hermione Granger standing behind him, their arms crossed over their chests and their wands in their hands. More Slytherins, including their younger sibs, were standing or sitting around the room, all of them looking very grim.

"Have seats, boys," Harry invited. His green eyes were as hard as emerald. "We're looking into the circumstances surrounding Luna Lovegood's recent fall. It's apparently a prank, and we thought we'd talk to you."

"Look, Harry," said Fred, taking the lead as he usually did, "I know it looks bad, but this time, it wasn't us! Honest! We were in Hogsmeade, and we've witnesses to it!"

"In any case," said George, "we'd never hurt Luna! She's our neighbour! She's our little sister's best friend! Our mum would _slaughter_ us if we harmed her! That is, if Ginny didn't get us first!"

Harry nodded, and Fred felt very relieved. The atmosphere warmed up slightly. "Oddly enough, I believe you," he said. "Don't relax completely, though. Even if you didn't do it yourselves, you're likely to have a good idea of who would have done it."

Hermione spoke up. "And we _did_ notice you taking the lead hissing everybody who Sorted into Slytherin. We didn't appreciate that. Not one little bit."

Fred burst out: "That was just a joke! Can't you take a joke?" He looked around at the stony expressions all around him, and felt his heart sinking into his boots. Nobody at all looked amused. He began to reconsider his choice of humor.

"We _didn't _think it was funny," Ron said. "You scared some of _our_ Firsties. Slytherin looks out for its own. That's why we're here in the first place. Luna's one of _ours_."

"I'd strongly suggest that you _discourage _that sort of behavior in future, boys," said Harry. He leaned forward, giving them a hard stare. "We know you two aren't prefects or anything like that, but a lot of people take their cues from you. Laying off that sort of thing will make inter-House relations smoother. We're all here and we've all got to get along with each other. Not stirring up trouble will make everybody's lives easier." The twins both nodded frantically.

"And, to get back to why we are here," Hermione said, "who do you think is a likely suspect? We want to retaliate, but we'd prefer not to set off a full-scale feud with the Gryffindors. No matter the rights or wrongs, the Headmaster and Assistant Headmistress are Old Gryffindors, and would not care to see their House come under attack."

"Well," said George, "anybody who was in Hogsmeade is off the list of suspects. But that does leave a good few people."

"All the firsties and second-years, just for starters," said Fred. "And there were a few people who didn't go for various reasons."

"Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil didn't feel well, or so they said," George mused. "But they're a bit too twitterpated to be really mean."

"We'll ask around among the firsties and second-years. Somebody knows something. If we find anything out, we'll tell you, _toute suite_. May we be excused?" Fred felt a wave of relief as Harry nodded, waving his dismissal. He and his twin got out of that room, and back up to Gryffindor Tower, as fast as they could. Once they were safely in their dorm room, far from Slytherins, Fred said in a low voice: "George, I think we may just have dodged a _lot_ of trouble."

"Yeah," agreed George. "Anybody who can deal with a troll the way Harry Potter did is nobody I want to have angry at me."

Meanwhile, Harry was continuing his investigation. He sent a message, and Colin Creevey was soon standing in his office, eagerly telling the Slytherins everything he knew about who might have targeted Luna.

"Romilda Vane is always making fun of her, and so is Demelza Robins. They were both too young to go to Hogsmeade, and they were giggling together about something they'd done. They said something about "teaching that spacey Snake a lesson she won't soon forget." Harry's eyebrows went up, and he could sense his friends taking careful note. That did not sound like the girls in question were innocent.

"Right, Colin, run along. Keep quiet about this, okay? Not everybody in Gryffindor would approve of you telling us this stuff." Harry reached into a cooler he had by his side. "Oh…and here's a bottle of Coke. If people ask you where you got it, tell them you bought it from us." Colin grabbed the bottle, gave them all a beaming smile, and ran off.

Romilda Vane and Demelza Robins thought they were in the clear. They knew there had been no witnesses to their "prank" on Luna Lovegood, and they were congratulating themselves on having scored a good one on their House's traditional rivals. Then, as they walked down a lonely corridor, they found themselves facing someone they would have preferred not to meet.

Draco Malfoy stepped forward, his wand in his hand but not pointed. "Ladies?" he asked, polite and unreadable. "My Housemates and I'd like to have a little talk with you about a few things. Will you come with us, please?"

"And what if we don't?" That was Romilda; she was always the bolder of the two. "What do you think you can do to us, _Snake_? There's one of you and two of us!"

"Do you think that?" Draco's smile was like a Valentine wrapped around a stiletto. "Have you forgotten that I almost never go anywhere alone?" Romilda and Demelza turned, and their blood froze at the sight of Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. The two boys were almost never far from Draco's side, and all the school knew that they were his devoted followers, willing to do his bidding in nearly anything. "And there's more!" Out of the shadows stepped Dudley Dursley, with an ominous expression on his face, and Ron and Ginny Weasley. Both siblings looked uncommonly grim.

"What do you want with us?" Demelza tried to sound fierce, but her voice shook. "What do you want to do with us?"

"Just talk," purred Draco. "That's all. My word of honour as a Malfoy and a Slytherin on it." That was a little reassuring; a wizard did not give his word intending to break it. Even so, though, the girls were not happy about the situation as they were politely marched down to Harry's headquarters in the dungeon.

Harry was waiting for them, with Hermione by his side. "We have reason to believe that either or both of you had a hand in the prank that sent Luna Lovegood to the hospital wing. What do you have to say to that?"

Both girls, eyes wide, stood mute. Dudley stepped forward. "This is a waste of time, Harry! Let me deal with them! I can make them talk!" He grinned ferociously. "Draco gave his word that all he would do was talk. I, on the other hand, made no such promises!" The girls cringed from his rage.

"Easy, big fellow," said Hermione. "I'm sure that there's been an honest misunderstanding. Even if they did it, I don't think they meant for it to end up with Luna actually hurt." She gave the two Gryffindors a sweet smile. "Did you, now?" While her expression was all sweetness and sympathy, there was a definite edge to her voice.

"They're liars," growled Dudley. "All Gryffindors are liars!"

"Hold on, Dudley," Hermione cautioned. "We haven't let them get a word in edgeways yet, have we? Why don't you girls tell us what happened?"

Hermione seemed sympathetic, and Demelza was the first to break. "We did plan to prank Luna, but we didn't intend to put her in the hospital! Honest! That was an accident!"

Harry's eyes widened in mocking wonder. "An _accident_. I see. After all, making someone dance helplessly on a stair landing, and then slicking the floor she's dancing on, is such a safe, error-free prank. You _couldn't _have anticipated _anything_ going wrong, now _could_ you have?" He and Dudley exchanged winks; his manner was imitated almost exactly from the times he'd been privileged to watch Balalaika playing cat-and-mouse with some poor fool who'd thought to cheat her.

Demelza yelled: "All right! I cast the _Tarantallegra_! But I didn't cast the slick-floor spell! That was all _her_ idea!" She pointed at Romilda, who gasped in horror at her betrayal. "Blame her! The whole thing was her idea!"

"Oh, don't think you can throw _me_ to the wolves!" snarled Romilda. "That stunt was just as much _your_ idea as mine! You're just as guilty as I am!"

Both girls shrieked in rage and made as if to jump on each other, but Harry raised a hand and Ron cast "_Petrificus Totalus_!" The girls froze in place, their eyes wide with shock. At Harry's languid signal, the counterspell was cast and both girls subsided, panting, their eyes wide with fear.

Harry leaned forward. In a low, intense voice, he said "I do not _care_ why you do not like Luna. I don't know anybody at all who's everybody's cup of tea. If you don't like her, and don't wish for her company, then leave her alone. Otherwise, you'll have all of Slytherin House to deal with. Got me?" Both girls nodded frantically.

Hermione said: "I think, in your shoes, that I'd go confess to Snape that you were the ones who hurt Luna. He'll put you in detention for a while, but if that happens, we'll figure that the incident is closed."

"Otherwise," commented Draco, "we_ might_ make making you miserable an ongoing project. There's a whole Houseful of us, and a lot of us specialize in sneaky, nasty revenges. Your lives would be a burden to you if we did that. Don't you think that letting Snape punish you would be better? _He_ has limits he has to operate in."

Harry smiled evilly. "_We_ don't." He gestured, and a path to the door opened up through the Slytherins. Both girls scrambled to get away.

Once they were gone, the atmosphere became more relaxed. "Man, you and Hermione do that good-cop, bad-cop routine perfectly!" Harry told Dudley. "Chief Watsup in Roanapur had better worry that you might take his job away!"

"Not me!" snorted Dudley. "I intend to work for a living!"

Some days later, in the Staff Common Room, Professor McGonagall turned to the Potions Master and asked: "Why do you have Miss Robins and Miss Vane doing a month's detentions in the dungeons, cleaning cauldrons, Severus?"

Snape sipped his tea. "As it happens, they came to me and confessed voluntarily that they were the ones who put Miss Lovegood in the hospital wing. Apparently it was a rather ill-thought-out prank. I think that a month chipping gunk out of cauldrons will teach them not to do such things. Magic is dangerous enough without idiotic practical jokes."

"I should say so!" McGonagall huffed. Her eyes narrowed and she gave Snape a suspicious stare. "Did you find out about this through your own investigations?"

"No, I did not," Snape replied rather smugly. "Some of my Serpents were offended by Miss Lovegood being injured, so they put their own investigation together and pieced together what had happened. I must say, they did a very efficient job. I am very pleased with them."

"You mean to tell me that your House went into action _on its own_, to protect and avenge one of its own?" McGonagall could hardly believe her ears. "That sounds a little uncharacteristic, if you'll pardon me saying so!"

"We Slytherins are aware that many others outside our House are prejudiced against us. I have long preached intra-House solidarity, and I am delighted to see that my teachings are finally being heeded."

*"Forward, comrades!"

END Chapter 52


	53. Lifestyle Changes

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter Fifty-Three

Lifestyle Changes

by Technomad

Demelza and Romilda had thought that their detention with Snape was the extent of their punishment. They were wrong. One evening, as they stumbled, exhausted, back into the Gryffindor common room, they found themselves facing all three of the Weasley brothers. For once, Percy Weasley was clearly in accord with his fun-loving twin brothers. None of them looked particularly pleased. Looking from one grim face to another, the girls' blood ran cold.

"Good evening, my friends," said Percy. His voice was calm and his manner was mild, but there was something there that set alarm bells shrilling in the girls' minds. "Do please have a seat. We want to have a little talk with you."

"It appears that you played a prank on Luna Lovegood." That was one of the twins. Neither Romilda or Demelza was sure which one. They liked to keep people confused about that.

"You could have hurt her badly," said the other twin.

"This may not matter to _you_-"

"But Luna's _a friend_ of our little sister's."

"We were very lucky-"

"That we _had _an alibi for that time."

"If Ginny had thought _we_ had done it-"

"She'd probably have murdered us both-"

"If our mother didn't do it first."

"I've also had talks with some of the people from the other Houses. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw." That was Percy. He had let the twins take the lead, but now he stepped on in. "They were not at all amused by what you did. You could have hurt Luna badly, or even, Merlin forbid, killed her." Percy's eyes were cold, and his voice was as impersonal as a mechanical device. "The Hufflepuffs said 'if they can do that sort of thing to one of the most harmless people in this school, just on account of which House they were Sorted into, what might they do to _us_?' They have a good point."

"Pranks are great fun-"

"As both of us know fully well."

"But we keep our own pranks-"

"Well short of the point where they could be lethal."

"If for no other reason-"

"Than that we don't want to go to Azkaban."

"There's also always the possibility-"

"That an inadvertent killing could set off a blood feud."

Percy stood up, looming over the girls. In a soft, gentle voice, he said: "Listen very carefully, for I shall say this only once. Pranks are one thing, but if I ever hear of you two pulling another stunt that could really hurt or kill anybody, I'll Take Steps against you."

Plucking up her courage, Romilda sneered: "Oh, yeah? What'll you do? _Kill_ us? They'd put you in Azkaban for that, remember?"

Percy showed his teeth in what nobody sane would have called a smile. "Kill you? Why would I do that?" As the girls relaxed, he went on: "Corpses don't _suffer_, now do they?" Romilda and Demelza grabbed for each other, holding on for comfort, as he purred: "I'd just turn my dear twin brothers loose on you, and tell them to _really go to town_!"

The twins' eyes went wide. "Would you do that, Percy? Would you really let us off the leash?"

"Of course. As long as it wasn't fatal or permanently injurious, you could do exactly what you pleased. I'd be happy to encourage you, or provide cover as needed." The twins' eyes went wide at this possibility. Previously, they had always had to work against Percy, or avoid him. Having Percy on their side would open up new opportunities.

"Think of Luna as an honorary Weasley."

"Our Mum did a lot to help raise her-"

"After her Mum died."

"She's our baby sister's best friend-"

"And even without complications with the Snakes-"

"We'll take harm to, or mistreatment of her-"

"As though it were inflicted on a Weasley."

Percy smiled broadly. "There, now, Fred and George. I'm sure they understand. And they'll spread the word: _Hands Off Luna Lovegood-and, while we're at it, all the Snakes_. Won't they?" Demelza and Romilda both nodded frantically. When Percy gestured their dismissal, they both ran for the safety of the Gryffindor girls' dorms.

The girls' accounts of what had happened to them, and why, lost nothing in the telling. By the time word had been spread, all of the Gryffindors knew that a new day had dawned. Pranking other Houses was still allowed, but the Slytherins, in particular, were to be treated with great caution. And Luna Lovegood was out of bounds for pranking, no matter how inviting a target she seemed to present.

Meanwhile, unaware of the byplay among the Gryffindors, Harry and Dudley worked out the details of their Coke distributorship. When they got in to see him, Professor Dumbledore was startled by their request.

"A _soft drink distributorship_? Here, at Hogwarts? And here I thought I'd seen every possible variation of student behavior." The headmaster's eyes twinkled as he gazed at them benignly. "I must say, you two are quite enterprising."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry. "We're going to set up a separate bank account at Gringotts' in the name of PD Enterprises. That's for 'Potter-Dursley.' The goblins were pretty good about extending credit, based on my vault account, but we'll want to get this on its own feet as soon as we can. I'll want to talk to Madam Rosmerta, and Mr. Dumbledore at the Hogs' Head, to get them to stock Coca-Cola. The way this is set up, they'll have to buy from us."

"Indeed?" Dumbledore's eyes went wide. Harry wondered if mentioning his brother to him had been a mistake. "How about Diagon Alley, and Knockturn Alley? They have places that sell refreshment, and they might find carrying 'Coca-Cola' profitable."

"We've owled the Leaky Cauldron, sir," explained Dudley. "We haven't had a chance to get in touch with Florian Fortescue yet, but we plan to do so the next time we're in London."

"We're not sure what there is down Knockturn Alley, sir," said Harry. "We were only there once, and then we were mainly concentrating on looking for Luna. Miss Lovegood. We'll talk to some of our House mates who're more familiar with that place. Professor Snape may also know what's down there, and who to talk to."

"An excellent plan. Well, young gentlemen, you have my permission to go ahead with this. Please talk to the support staff about offering your drink as an alternative to butterbeer in the Great Hall." Harry and Dudley could tell that they'd been dismissed. They got up to go, and as they turned, Dumbledore added: "I heard all about your measures to protect Miss Lovegood after her unfortunate encounter. I am very pleased with you, both with your efficiency and your moderate response. Had you harmed Miss Robins and Miss Vane, I would have had to take steps against you. As things stand, I have awarded twenty-five points to Slytherin for House solidarity and clear thinking."

"Thank you, sir!"

Meanwhile, classes went on. Professor Lupin covered a lot of ground in Defence, making up for the wasted two years under "the Squirrel and the Ponce," as Professors Quirrel and Lockhart were now known. The news that Quirrel had recovered, but would not be returning to teaching, brought subdued rejoicing across the school from those who'd studied under him. And nobody at all felt very sorry for Lockhart.

The presence of the Dementors around the school led to some problems. Several times, there were reports of the creatures intruding on school grounds, which they were supposed to be firmly forbidden to ever do. One day after Defence class, Harry and Dudley approached their teacher. "Please, sir, isn't there some way we can defend ourselves against those awful phantoms?" asked Dudley.

"You did say that you'd teach me about the Patronus Charm. Dudley would like to learn, and so would the rest of us in the Duelling Association." The Duelling Association had reformed once school began, and had had regular practice, but had not yet scheduled a tournament. With Lockhart gone, the teams had dropped the names of the teachers that had originally sponsored them, becoming "Gladiators" and "Furies." They were now coached by Flitwick and Snape, who took turns teaching both teams what they knew. As a special treat, they were sometimes given advanced coaching by the young Auror whom they had had as a judge at last year's tournaments. "Tonks," as she preferred to be called, was a good coach, and many of the girls had expressed interest in becoming Aurors after interacting with her.

Lupin looked thoughtful. "I see. I did promise, didn't I?" He cogitated for a few minutes. "Let me work on this. The Patronus is difficult to cast without a real Dementor, but I believe exposing you youngsters to those creatures would get me in trouble with the Ministry."

"Thank you, sir. We'll get a list of the times when the DA is practicing, and once you've got what you need, we can set it up for all of us to take turns."

"It's no problem, Mr. Dursley. And ten points to Slytherin for taking an interest in my subject." Dudley smiled. He loved getting points for Slytherin, and counted each one as greedily as though it had been a golden Galleon.

One evening, Ginny Weasley came into the Slytherin common-room with a large black dog in tow. "Look at what I found, everyone!" Everybody looked up, rather startled. Pixie, Dudley's cat, took one look and came wandering over fearlessly, purring loudly. The dog's tongue lolled out, and it licked Pixie.

"Pixie, get away from that dog! It might bite you!" snapped Dudley. He darted forward, scooping his pet up in his arms. "Ginny, you know we all love you, but what's got into you? What in the world do you want with that dog?"

"I met him out on the grounds. He was hungry, and I got him some food from the house elves. Isn't he adorable?" Ginny rubbed the dog behind his ears, and the dog squeezed his eyes shut with pleasure. "I want to keep him!"

"Are dogs allowed? I don't remember much mention of wizards and witches keeping dogs in _Hogwarts, a History_," said Hermione. Gingerly, she came over and held out her hand, palm down, for the dog to sniff. When the dog licked her hand and began to wag his tail vigorously, she smiled the gleaming smile that transformed her face from "pretty" to "true beauty." Ron had an expression on his face that looked like he'd been poleaxed.

"I don't know of any reason why they wouldn't be," said Dudley. "Why don't we ask Snape or Dumbledore about it?"

As it happened, Snape was off at some sort of potions conference, but Dumbledore was happy to help. "My, you are a handsome one!" said the headmaster, skritching the dog behind his ears. Pulling his wand, Dumbledore cast a quick spell. "And no ownership charm on you. That means that you're Ginny's, if you want to be. Do you?" The dog nodded rapidly, his tail thumping on the floor. "Very well, Miss Weasley. Unless he causes problems, you may keep him. He'll probably have to sleep in the common room, though. He's uncut, and that could cause problems with the protective spells on your dormitory."

"What do you mean-oh!" Ginny blushed as red as her hair. "Thank you, sir! I wonder what I should call him?"

"How about 'Baskerville?'" suggested Hermione, who had produced a brush and was busily brushing the dog's thick black coat. "He looks like the Hound of the Baskervilles." At the purebloods' blank looks, she explained: "It's a classic story. The Hound of the Baskervilles is a huge, impressive dog that scares everybody that sees it. I'll bring a copy along sometime. Everybody should read it."

"And why would I want to read some Muggle trash?" sneered Draco Malfoy. Suddenly, the dog was on his feet, growling menacingly and eyeing Draco up as though he were made of dog food. Draco paled, drawing his wand. Ginny and Hermione both drew theirs, and Ron and Harry moved so that they could easily reach their wands.

"First off, Draco," Harry said, "'Muggle trash' often has important things to tell us. You really should read some Muggle literature sometime."

"If for no other reason, because we magical folk are _outnumbered greatly_ by the Muggles you so despise," Hermione snarled through a smile. "Several thousand to one, at least. Learning about them and their ways might just be a good idea."

"One of these days, Draco, overconfidence is going to be your downfall," Harry said. "There's a dueling tournament coming up shortly. Keep in mind that if you waltz in with the attitude that you're bound to win because of your 'superior' pure blood, your opponent might just wipe the walls with you."

"And on that note," Ron said, "I think it's time we all went to bed. And, Draco…" he leaned forward, staring into Draco's eyes, "I should say that if _aught _untoward happens to my sister's new pet, my brothers and I will hold you directly responsible. Even if you have an alibi. _Got_ me?" Draco nodded hard. "_Good_. Then let's off to bed. We can't outdo the other Houses if we're sleep-deprived."


	54. And the Money Came Rolling In

Harry and the Pirates

Chapter 54

And The Money Came Rolling In

by Technomad

A couple of weeks later, the first of PD Enterprises' ventures, the Coca-Cola distributorship, began to bear fruit. Coke still wasn't served with meals at Hogwarts, but was available for sale in the castle and at Hogsmeade. And it was a hit.

Harry looked over their first report, hardly daring to believe his eyes. Even with the goblins cutting themselves in for a share, the profits were nearly unbelievable. "We're going to have to hire help, I think," Harry muttered. "This is a gold mine!"

Dudley was also looking at the reports. "I wonder if other soft drinks would sell as well?"

"Don't know, offhand, but can't hurt to offer them. Ron's been a big help, along with Hermione and Ginny. They deserve every Knut we're going to pay them."

"I'm glad we agreed on a percentage of sales. That way, they've a motive for working hard. Over the hols, they can canvass the Alleys and see who'd be interested in buying from us." Dudley looked rather smug. "Of course, anybody on the Alleys who tries to bypass _us _will find that the goblins have taken an unfriendly interest in him."

"Nothing like a monopoly, Dudley," Harry smiled. He pulled out an abacus (both boys had learned to use one in their schooling in Roanapur, and found it preferable in some ways to mechanical adding machines, not to mention electronic calculators which would be useless at Hogwarts) and began projecting their future profits, based on what they had already made. When he saw his results, he whistled softly and re-ran his figures, not quite believing them.

"With what we should be able to pay them, Ron and Ginny won't need to depend on their mother any more. They can visit us in Roanapur next summer, if they've a mind to!" Harry and Dudley exchanged smiles. They had enjoyed Luna's and Hermione's visits, and looked forward to introducing their redheaded friends to their hometown and home life.

"I wonder if their mum will insist that Percy, or another of their older brothers, accompany them?" Harry snickered. "Once Sister Eda sees Percy or Bill, that'll be _them_ taken care of for the duration of the visit! She'll drag them off to her lair and introduce them to a fair few things they don't teach here at Hogwarts!" Harry used his hands to outline a woman's shape in the air, and both boys laughed.

"I wonder if Percy'd know what she was after?" mused Dudley.

Just then, the bell rang to signal the beginning of another day of classes.

That evening, Professor Lupin sent word that he'd figured out how to train those who were interested in producing the Patronus Charm. Along with Hermione, Ron, Draco, Luna and Ginny, Harry and Dudley reported to the Defence classroom, to be met by an assortment of their schoolmates from other Houses. Harry nodded to Justin Finch-Fletchley, who apparently led their year's contigent of Hufflepuffs.

"Good evening, students, and welcome to our extra-curricular Defence Against Dementors class. By special permission, I have obtained several immature Dementors, against whom we shall practice the Patronus Charm. Anybody know what a Patronus Charm is?" Professor Lupin looked expectantly around the room, smiling to see that there were hands in the air. "Miss Chang?"

"A Patronus Charm takes the form of a protective silver being, usually of a form significant to the caster, and can repel Dementors."

"Correct. Five points to Ravenclaw." Professor Lupin pointed to a box. "At the moment, the Dementors are confined inside that spell-reinforced box. Before we release them, we will learn the basics of casting the Patronus, and then attempt to cast it without their presence. The presence of Dementors, as you know, can throw people off their best form."

Harry shuddered. He remembered, all too well, how horrible the Dementors had been. This was one bit of studying he wasn't going to give anything less than his best to!

Lupin went on, explaining how to cast the Patronus. Harry went through his thoughts, wondering what memories he had that were happy enough to produce a Patronus. Finally, he thought of the first time that he had successfully completed an assignment for Balalaika, and she had patted his head and called him a good soldier. He had glowed with happiness at her praise.

He glanced at his cousin. Dudley had a small, secretive smile on his face, and exchanged significant looks with Luna, who gave him a big bright smile. Harry smiled to himself; he had a pretty good idea of what sort of happy memories Dudley was calling on. Not to mention Luna.

After a few minutes, everybody nodded when Lupin asked if they were ready to try. "Very well, let us begin. The wand movement is _thus_…" and he demonstrated a quick flicking with the wand, very like what they did in Charms class… "and the incantation is _Expecto Patronum_. Go on, try it!"

Harry concentrated on a happy memory. The day that Balalaika had first trusted him with a simple errand, and had smiled and praised him as "a good, intelligent boy" swam into his memory, and he smiled. Waving his wand in the prescribed manner, he intoned "_Expecto Patronum_!" To his delight, he produced a misty silvery glob that danced in the air before him for a second before dissipating.

He wasn't the only one. More than half of the students present had had some sort of result, and Professor Lupin was delighted. "Wonderful! You've all done very well! It's unusual to find students your age who can do even this much!" Then he leaned back on his desk. "And now we'll try it again!"

After about five repetitions, Professor Lupin said: "Okay, now we'll try against an immature Dementor. Who wants to go first?" Everybody wanted to have a go, and Lupin said: "Very well, we'll do this alphabetically. You leave the room, and I'll call you back in, one at a time."

One by one, the students were called, filing into the classroom, and coming out again as Professor Lupin called the next name on the list. Harry noticed that while many went in looking very confident, none of them came out looking nearly so cocky.

Dudley was called, and he squared his shoulders, reminding Harry of one of Balalaika's men about to go into battle. "Wish me luck, cousin," he whispered, as Harry slapped him on the shoulder.

Harry was on pins-and-needles all the time Dudley was gone, and he noticed that Luna was looking at the closed door with big eyes. Ginny came over and patted Luna on the back, and Luna put her arm around Ginny's waist. Ginny gave Harry a wink, and Harry winked back.

After what seemed like an eternity, but was only a few minutes, the door opened, and Dudley came back through. He was shaking a little, and white as a sheet; his face was covered with cold sweat. He leaned over to Harry, whispering: "I really, _really_ want to get this spell down! I do _not_ want to _ever _have to face one of those things unprepared!" Meanwhile, Justin went in, coming out visibly shaken, his usual upper-class British sang-froid forgotten for once.

Hermione was called, marching on into the room with her head up and her chin out, as though she were about to face a firing squad. Harry noticed how pale she was, and saw that Ron was staring after her, biting his lower lip. After a few minutes, she came back out, her hands trembling, and Ron came over, holding her close as she buried her face in his shoulder. Harry was beginning to get a bit of stage-fright. He knew Hermione, and knew that she was no coward. Neither was Dudley, for that matter. These Dementors had to be very bad news if they could scare his cousin and his female friend so badly.

When Luna was called, she walked up as calmly as though she were merely about to go to lunch, giving Dudley a wink as she passed him. Dudley was literally biting his fingernails, and Harry could tell that he was terrified for their little friend.

"Dudley," Harry whispered in Russian, low enough so that only they could hear, "don't worry! She handled Roanapur with no problem!" Dudley visibly considered that for a second, and calmed down. "She faced down Balalaika," Harry said, still in Russian. "She can handle some damned phantom!" Reminded of that, Dudley brightened, forcing a smile. Harry clapped him on the shoulder, hoping that it would comfort him. Dudley feared nothing on earth for himself, but Harry knew that he was fiercely protective of Luna. When she'd gone missing in Roanapur, they'd all been worried, but poor Dudley had nearly gone spare.

When Luna came out, Dudley hurried over to see if she was all right. She was looking a little shaken, but she'd looked worse after her encounter with the dreadful killer twins in Roanapur. "I'm all right, Dudley. It was very unpleasant, but I've learned how to deal with unpleasant things. And I wanted to make you proud of me. When we're alone, I'll tell you what my happy memory was." Dudley hugged her, and she hugged him back. Their friends all smiled; everybody in their little circle loved Luna. She was an "honorary little sister" to all the older Slytherin boys.

When Harry's name was called, he sighed, checked his wand to make sure it was ready in its holster, and walked on in, feeling Dudley give him a pat on the back for luck. When he entered the classroom, Professor Lupin was waiting, looking uncommonly grim.

"Mr. Potter…if you don't want to do this at this time, you may leave and no blame will attach to you." Harry shook his head. He wanted to do it. He did not want to back down. He wanted to be worthy of Balalaika's trust, and of Hotel Moscow…and Slytherin House.

"No, sir," Harry answered, proud that his voice didn't shake. "I've seen scary things before. I don't know what you've heard about my hometown, but quite a few people and things there are as scary as anything I've seen in Britain. My cousin Dudley and I faced Knockturn Alley before our second year here, and came out unharmed."

"Knockturn Alley?" This clearly surprised the Defence professor. "May I ask why you went in there? That's hardly the sort of place one would think boys your age would want to go!"

"Luna, or should I say, Miss Lovegood, had wandered in and we went in to get her back so her father wouldn't worry. It was really a doddle, sir. There are places in Roanapur…that's our hometown…that are far scarier."

"And here you are, in Slytherin," murmured Professor Lupin. "What a Gryffindor was lost in you! But, I digress. Since you say you're not afraid, let me introduce you to a Dementor!" He waved his wand, and the box opened, releasing a tall, robed figure that swept toward Harry, chilling the air around it.

Harry waved his wand in the prescribed motion, shouting "_Expecto Patronum_!" But happy thoughts wouldn't come. In his ears, he heard a woman's voice, screaming:

_ "Not my son…not Harry! Take me! Kill me instead!"_

And then, a familiar, high-pitched voice, dripping malice, hatred and contempt:

"_Stand aside, you silly girl!"_

Then the world went black. When Harry came to, he found Professor Lupin over him. "Here, Mr. Potter." He handed Harry a thick chocolate bar. "I'm sorry. I should have thought that you might be more severely affected than your friends." He shook his head. "You have much worse memories in your past than they do, I think. Mr. Dursley was also badly affected, but did manage to stay conscious."

Harry took off his glasses, rubbing them with a handkerchief. "Sir…I think I might have heard my mum, and Lord V…, er, I mean, the person who killed her. They say I was present at the time. I was too young to remember."

Professor Lupin's eyes went very wide. "You may just have, Mr. Potter. Dementors summon up a person's worst memories, and that would be your worst memory, most likely, even though you don't remember it consciously." He looked away, blinking rapidly, then turned back to Harry. "If you want to continue with these lessons, that would be wonderful, but if you don't, I'll understand completely. Nothing will be said."

Harry sat up, squaring his shoulders. "I want to keep it up. Balalaika…she's the woman Dudley and I, and Dudley's mum, my Aunt Petunia, all work for back home…says that the greater the effort, the more worthwhile the gain. I don't want to disappoint her, sir. She has very high standards."

"This 'Balalaika' sounds like a very interesting person. Professor Snape has mentioned her in passing in the Staff Common Room, wishing that more of his Slytherins could have benefited from her acquaintance." As Harry stood, Professor Lupin offered him a hand to assist him, since he was still shaky. "And I should mention that I knew your parents. Perhaps we can get together and I can tell you about them sometime."

"I'd be pleased to do that, sir. I know little about them. This is the first time I remember hearing my mum's voice, sir." With that, Harry left. Ginny Weasley came in, and gave him a wink as they passed each other.

When everybody had had a go, Professor Lupin addressed the group. "I'm pleased at how advanced you are, but you all have a way to go yet before being able to produce a corporeal Patronus. Before we go through this exercise again, I expect each of you to practice every day."

With that, the group broke up, heading toward their respective dormitories. Harry and Dudley were joined by Hermione, Luna, Ron and Ginny.

"This may come in useful for the next Duelling Association tournament," Luna commented, after a few minutes of silence. "If I can cast a corporeal Patronus, I should be able to handle anything the opposition can throw at me."

"And the principles behind it will be useful, too," said Hermione. Her eyes glowed for a second. "Not to mention, the surprise I'll hand the examiners when I go to take my Charms OWL!"

Everybody else groaned. "Hermione…that's two years in the future! We _know _you're ambitious! Have a little mercy on those of us who _aren't _geniuses!" groaned Ron.

Hermione looked carefully at Ron. "You…you really think I'm a genius?"

"Yes! You're scary, brilliant and good-looking, too! One of these days you'll probably be Minister of Magic, and you'll have forgotten I even exist!" Ron's voice filled with pain at the last words, and Hermione's eyes went wide for a few seconds, before she grabbed Ron and hugged him. Only when they reached the door to the Slytherin common-room did she let him loose.


End file.
